


Radiation and Other Drugs

by billie_rose



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/M, Multi, Other, Polyamory, Romance, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2018-11-30 12:19:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 38,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11463468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billie_rose/pseuds/billie_rose
Summary: Rose emerged from Vault 111 alone with two goals in mind: avenging her husband and finding her kidnapped son. She never planned to rediscover a feeling of home in the Commonwealth, particularly not in the roguish leader of the town of Goodneighbor. //Female SoSu/John Hancock (and oops lil ol’ MacCready sometimes too!!) travels through the wasteland! Lots of plot but there will be smutty nonsense in future chapters





	1. The Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter's dialogue is mostly straight from the game. I wanted to do it just for Rose and Hancock's first meeting, so from here on out it probably won't be like that lol.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and any comment or critique would be much appreciated!
> 
> Song: The Stranger by Lord Huron

It was early evening when Rose arrived in Goodneighbor. As the gates shut behind her, she slung her rifle back over her shoulder, not wanting to start with a bad impression. She stood near the entrance and adjusted her glasses, one hand on her wide hips, surveying what part of the town she could see. It didn't appear to be too large or too busy. _Not that much of the Commonwealth was anymore_ , she thought to herself. Most of the people she could see looked worn and a little lost, which she didn't mind in the slightest. If she'd learned anything in her short time in the wasteland, it was that she drew attention, whether it be good or bad. She had a feeling that it wouldn't be too much of a problem here.

 

The traders in the buildings ahead caught her eye, and she made her way towards them before a bald man stepped in her path. He held up his hand with a cigarette between his fingers.

 

"Hold up," he began, his expression smug. "First time in Goodneighbor? Can't go walking around without insurance." He patted the gun on his hip casually. She gave him a once-over before staring him directly in the eye with a borderline-murderous gaze.

 

"You better back off, or you're the one who's going to need insurance.”

 

She stepped forward slightly with her fingers hovering over the pistol on her own hip. Her temper flared to life in an instant, and her patience was already thin from traveling all day. That and a run-in with a Yao Guai made her far from in the mood for being hassled by some drifter.

 

The man stepped back, raising his hands defensively. His eyes flickered from her fiery gaze to her gun. “Whoa, hey, all right. We'll just, uh, say your insurance is paid up for now, okay?"

 

His retraction didn't settle the rage boiling in Rose's chest. Very little managed to ever since she made it out of Vault 111. At this point, almost everything was just an obstacle slowing her from finding Shaun. And when obstacles couldn't be avoided, they needed to be destroyed.

 

"Whoa, whoa. Time out," a voice said from the shadows as she began to slide the gun from its holster. Rose averted her eyes from the frightened insurance man to the figure emerging from the dark. A man —no, Ghoul, she thought, recalling meeting the irradiated humans for the first time and learning what they were after running into a band of traders not too long ago—stepped into the dim streetlight. He wore a battered tricorn hat and red coat that looked straight out of the Revolutionary War, and was by far the most unusually dressed person she'd seen since emerging from the vault. His large eyes were almost completely black and full of something she couldn't quite read. He studied her briefly, a curious look on his face, before turning to the insurance guy. His expression hardened. "Someone steps through that gate for the first time, they're a guest. You lay off that extortion crap.”

The man, looking incredulous and then angry, turned to the ghoul. "What d'you care? She ain't one of us.”

 

Mock disappointment crossed the ghoul's face. "No love for your mayor, Finn? I said let her go."

 

There was a sharp edge in the ghoul's voice that impressed and even frightened her, and in that moment Rose decided she liked him.

 

Finn pursed his lips and flicked his cigarette onto the ground. "You're soft, Hancock. You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, one day there'll be a new mayor.”

 

"Come on, man. This is me we're talking about.” Hancock shook his head and smiled at the ground, strolling casually closer to Finn. He put a hand on his shoulder.

“Let me tell you something."

 

Before Rose could blink, Hancock slipped a bayonet from his waistband and plunged it twice into Finn's gut. She jumped as a guttural noise escaped him and his blood sprayed in her direction, but she kept her face passive.

 

Hancock wiped the blade on Finn’s jacket before shoving him to the ground. "Now why'd you have to go and say that? Breakin' my heart over here.”

 

He smeared the blood off of his hands and onto his pants. He stuck the knife back in his belt and turned to face Rose, moving a few steps closer to her.

 

"Now, I know you had ol' Finn handled back there, but a mayor's gotta make a point sometimes.” He paused to light a cigarette of his own. "You alright?"

 

She slipped the pistol back onto her waist. "I'm fine. Thanks for taking care of him."

 

Hancock nodded. "Good. Now don't let this incident taint your view of our little community," he said, a stream of smoke trailing from where his nose would be. "Goodneighbor's of the people, for the people, you feel me? Everyone's welcome."

 

Rose stared at him for a moment, mesmerized by the way the neon of the signs around them made his strange eyes glimmer. Her eyes flickered over to a woman in armor standing a ways back, clearly watching their exchange.

 

“I feel you.” She ran a hand through her hair as she returned her attention to Hancock.

 

He tapped his cigarette, dropping ash onto the pavement.

 

“Good. You stay cool, and you'll be part of the neighborhood. So long as you remember who's in charge." Hancock took a few steps back and began to turn away, but glanced back at her as she wandered towards Daisy's Discounts.

 

"Didn't catch your name," he called out, cigarette dangling from his lip.

 

"Rose,” she called back, and disappeared into the shop.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hancock trudged back towards the Old State House lost in thought, Fahrenheit trailing behind him. Drifters, ghouls, and any brand of outcast had worked their way through Goodneighbor, but he'd never seen anything like this woman before. Besides a long, somewhat fresh gash over her left eye, he didn't think she had the wear from the Commonwealth that weighed everyone down. Her curly black hair was long, free of anything pulling it back, and hardly anyone kept it that way these days. She was heavy-set, but clearly strong. She stood up straighter than the drifters, and her dark eyes were full of a fire that the Commonwealth often had a way of putting out.

He slipped Jet into the hands of one of his Neighborhood Watchmen, and on a whim muttered a quiet order in his ear, before entering the old building he called home. He made his way up the spiral staircase and into his office, where Fahrenheit leaned against the door frame instead of following him inside. She watched as he crossed the room to sit at his desk.

 

“Everything alright, boss?"

 

 

He scowled as he rummaged through the drawer of his desk and pulled out a tin of Mentats. “What? Why do you ask?"

 

She raised an eyebrow and adjusted her armor. “You seem distracted.”

 

Hancock popped a few of the tablets into his mouth. He took off his tricorn hat and rubbed his head with a sigh. "I dunno, Fahr. I mean, I was tired of that insurance shit with Finn anyway, but fuck, didn't wake up thinking I'd kill him today for some Vaultie." He paused and took a long drag from his cigarette.

 

“Don't think I've seen anything like her before."

 

Fahrenheit's mild surprise didn't show. She knew Hancock would never hesitate to kill someone if they deserved it. Finn hadn't done anything to him, though, and Hancock had never seen that woman before in his life.

 

She'd also never seen her boss look at anyone the way he'd looked at that Vault girl.

 

"I'll send some of the guys to clean up," she told him simply, and left without another word.

 

Hancock tapped his fingers on his desk as the Mentats took hold. It wasn't really a big deal, killing Finn. Other people were tired of his bullshit too, Hancock thought to himself. But both he and Fahrenheit knew that's not why he'd done it. There was just something about that woman that he couldn't put his finger on, something that made him bury his bayonet in Finn.

 

"Rose," he whispered to himself.

 

He had a fleeting idea of what that was from old books or comics. They were something from before the war, before the fallout destroyed everything beautiful.

He shook his head and put his tricorn back on as he stood. Finn's death wouldn't cause a stir, but the disrespect that caused it nagged at Hancock. It was time to remind everyone who was in charge.

 

* * *

 

 

Rose finished counting out her caps and slid them across the counter to Daisy. The ghoul woman scooped them up and handed Rose her purchases.

 

"Thanks, kid," Daisy said, and slid a bottle of Buffout across the counter after dropping the money in her strong box. Rose started to protest but Daisy held up her hand.

 

"Nah, take it. They're a gift. Just remember that next time you're looking for someone to trade with.”

 

"Thank you," Rose said as she stuffed her belongings into her pack.

 

Daisy nodded as she locked up her strong box, fresh with caps. As Rose turned to leave, she heard the echo of a familiar voice from earlier, calling for the townsfolk to gather.

The old ghoul woman tossed the box of caps under the counter and hurried past Rose with a grin. "Mayor's callin'. You should go listen, newcomer.”

 

Rose watched her go, unsure of what to do. She gripped the straps of her pack, torn. She knew she needed to move forward so she could find Shaun, but she needed work. Even though she wouldn't mind slaughtering the entire Commonwealth to get her son back, she knew money could speak louder than violence sometimes. This town was a little rough, sure, but she didn't mind playing merc if need be. It would probably make her the most caps anyway.

 

"For Shaun," she murmured to herself, and jogged off to follow Daisy.

 

She found the citizens of Goodneighbor gathered around a small balcony where Hancock stood. He gazed around at his people, and nodded once when his eyes landed on Rose.

 

"Now, I know you all are doing your own thing," he began, not averting his gaze from hers, "but I don't want anyone to forget what matters."

 

He paused, his eyes finally shifting away from Rose, and grinned. “Hey, Daisy. Glad you could make it. How's my favorite girl? Didn't I see you on a date with Marowski the other day?"

 

Daisy cackled. "He wishes!" The crowd broke into laughter and Rose cracked a small smile. Hancock shook his head, chuckling.

 

"All right, all right. We're getting off track. What was I saying?" He scanned the crowd again, rubbing his chin in mock thought. "Oh, that's right! What matters..."

 

The ghoul leaned forward on the balcony rail, silently reveling in the attention of his people.

 

"We freaks gotta stick together! And the best way to stick together is to keep an eye out for what drives us apart, you feel me?"

 

The crowd called out scattered agreements.

 

"Now, what out there in our big, friendly Commonwealth would want to drive us apart? What kind of twisted, unneighborly boogeyman would want to hurt our peaceful community?"

 

A drifter near Rose cried out angrily. "The Institute and their synths!"

 

"That's right! Who said that? Come up to my office later. You've earned yourself some Jet.”

 

He allowed for a moment of brief silence again. Rose couldn't help but think he would've made a decent politician back in the day. One glance around made it clear he had these people in the palm of his hand.

 

"The Institute!" He continued. "They're the real enemy! Not the Raiders, not the Super Mutants, not even those tools over in Diamond City."

 

"I don't know, Hancock. I'd sure love to give McDonough a kick in the ass!" Someone shouted, and was rewarded with laughter.

 

"Hey, we all know I got my own personal beef with that lard-head, but stay focused!"

 

Those around Rose all quieted down.

 

"Now, I want everyone to keep the Institute in mind. When someone starts acting funny. When people start doing things they don't normally do. When family starts pushing you away for no reason. We all know who is behind that kind of shit. And the only way to stop it is to stick together. They can't control us if we're not afraid. Now, who's scared of the Institute?"

 

Vicious denial rang out from almost everyone below Hancock.

 

"And which town in the Commonwealth should the Institute not fuck with?"

"Goodneighbor!"

 

Hancock nodded, smirking, and scanned the crowd of his citizens once more. "And who's in charge of Goodneighbor?"

 

They all cried his name. He held a fist in the air, and his people chanted with him.

 

“Of the people! For the people!"

 

The crowd cheered, but Rose kept her gaze on Hancock. Even though she'd just arrived, she couldn't help but be fascinated by the town and its mayor. He'd killed someone -one of his own citizens- in broad daylight, yet here his people were, drunk on his words and chanting his name. He turned to go back inside the old building but caught her eye. He raised one bare brow, his prideful smirk softening, and she grinned.

It was the closest thing to a real smile that crossed Rose's lips since she'd awoken from the vault.


	2. Blackbird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the kudos, guys! You have now idea how much even just one encourages me to keep writing.
> 
> Song: Blackbird by The Beatles

Rose leaned against the wall opposite the entrance of the Old State House. She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, eyes closed and mouth set in a deeper frown than usual. She'd taken her time getting back to Goodneighbor from Hancock's storeroom and was markedly nervous to see the ghoul mayor once again. The first job she found in town hadn't exactly gone as planned.

 She thought back to yesterday evening. 

* * *

 

 Rose climbed up the rubble after Bobbi No-Nose with Mel behind her, who was still grumbling about the loss of his robot. She emerged into the supposed Diamond City strongroom, taking in her surroundings. There was a large train car, which seemed out of place. The faint evening light that trickled through the ceiling meant there was no mayor’s office above them either. Both she and Mel had expressed concerns that they were too far south of Diamond City and now her suspicions were confirmed. She turned to Bobbi to confront her, but was startled by the three figures on the catwalk above them.  
  
"Shit," Bobbi muttered as she spotted them.  
  
Fahrenheit stepped into the light above them, shaking her head. "You seriously didn't think Hancock would catch wind of your scheme? He took you in, Bobbi. And you're stealing from him?"  
  
Rose furrowed her brow in confusion. Hancock?  
  
"Don't listen to her," Bobbi said as she turned back to face her companions.

"What does this have to do with Hancock?" Rose demanded, the subtle beginnings of fury simmering in her chest.  
  
Bobbi rolled her eyes and shifted her stance, clearly uncomfortable. "Yeah, about that. As you and Mel guessed, this isn't the Diamond City strongroom."  
  
Fahrenheit laughed. "I see the rest of you are in the dark about this. Nice, No-Nose." She leaned up against a stack of crates and lit a cigarette. "You all just broke into Hancock's storeroom. You know, Hancock? The mayor of Goodneighbor?"  
  
"Dammit, Bobbi," Mel cursed from behind them.  
  
"Listen guys, I know--" Bobbi began, but her words were cut short when she crumpled to the ground, a bullet blowing through her skull. Mel lept backward and cursed in alarm. Even Fahrenheit jumped at the sudden execution.    
  
Rose stared down at the corpse with a snarl on her now blood-splattered face, pistol still level with where Bobbi's head was before.

"Jesus, Vaultie," Fahrenheit chuckled, "No second chances with you, huh?"  
  
Rose shrugged. "She didn't help with shit in those tunnels anyway. I was ready to blow her head off the minute we started this little trip," she spat, finally lowering the pistol and slipping it back in its place on her belt. She turned to Mel, who looked like he might piss his pants. A twinge of guilt snapped Rose back into reality. He'd been friendly --or at the very least, cooperative-- since she got him out of jail, and he did her no wrong. Bobbi screwed them both.  
  
"I'm sorry, Mel. I know you didn't know she was playing us. I'd say I'm sorry for killing your boss too, but I'm not," she said, kneeling beside Bobbi. She rolled the corpse over roughly and cut the pack from her back. After digging through it, she tossed a bag of caps to Mel. "For another Sonya."

Her voice was gentler and an apologetic smile even ghosted across her lips. The burning heat in her chest faded almost as quickly as it came.

He juggled the bag before catching it, staring at Rose with wide, fearful eyes. "Uh, thanks," he sputtered.  
  
Rose nodded once at the door, silently dismissing Mel. She watched as he bolted to the exit without complaint before turning to look back up at the catwalk. The two men on either side stared down at Rose with terrified looks on their faces, but Fahrenheit eyed her curiously. Rose's gaze followed the woman as she descended, stairs creaking beneath each heavy footfall, to stand a few feet away from her.  
  
"You made the right move," Fahrenheit said after the two sized each other up.  
  
"Doesn't change that we broke into his storeroom," Rose said, frustrated. She wiped the gore from her glasses onto her sleeve.  
  
She'd killed Bobbi for a lot of reasons. Sure, she was a lying bitch and didn't lift a finger in the tunnels. This, though, made Rose feel like she betrayed Hancock. They didn't really know each other but when someone kills a man for you, breaking into their storeroom isn't exactly the best way to repay them.  
  
Fahrenheit shook her head. "I wouldn't worry about that. In the end, Hancock appreciates loyalty, and you've shown it."  
  
Rose --though still annoyed with it all-- nodded and said no more, so Fahrenheit turned to leave. The two men jogged down from above to follow her. She paused before pushing open the door.  
  
"You should go pay your respects in person. It's best to stay on Hancock's good side. Trust me."

* * *

  
  
Now, here she was. It was time to 'pay her respects', but she couldn't bring herself to go inside. She assumed Fahrenheit would've already told him how everything went down, but still: what was Rose supposed to say?  
  
_Hey, yeah, sorry about that break-in and the corpse on your floor. I'll try not to do it again._  
  
She let out a long sigh, tempted to just bail and run off to Diamond City. She probably had enough caps to hire that detective she'd heard about and that's what mattered right now anyway. Finding Shaun.  
  
"If you've got a headache or something, I could probably slide you some Jet," a rough voice said across from her, making her jump. Rose jerked her head up to find Hancock leaning against the Old State House wall. He grinned at the surprise on her face.  
  
"I'm fine," she said, scratching the back of her neck. "Thanks for the offer, though."  
  
He shrugged and crossed his arms. "You know, you scare pretty easily for a cold-blooded killer."  
  
"Well, I'm new to the lifestyle, but I'm sure I'll get there," she replied. She stared down at her boots.

 "I'm sorry about what happened."  
  
Hancock waved his hand, dismissing her apology. "Nothing to be sorry for. You took someone out who was giving me trouble. I got nothing but thanks for you," he told her. She started to speak but he held up a hand.  
  
"Look, Fahr already told me you were worked up about breaking into the storeroom. I'm telling you, just let it go. If it were a problem, you'd be dead by now.”  
  
Rose looked up from her feet with one dark eyebrow raised and the expression of someone being issued a challenge. A burst of laughter escaped Hancock.  
  
"Alright, or some of my guys would be dead after trying to hunt you down. But you get my point, right?"  
  
She nodded, but was still unsure. How could she not be? She'd watched him gut someone for talking crooked. Then again, he was right. She was sure Fahrenheit would've taken her out at the storeroom if there was a problem.

 "Good. You been to the Rail yet? I'll treat you to some drinks. I owe ya," he told her, gesturing in the direction of Goodneighbor's bar.

 Rose felt her chest tighten. She wasn't disappointed in his offer, even though it caught her off-guard. There was something about the ghoul that drew her in, something that made her want to say yes, but a little voice nagged at her in the back of her mind. It made her heart ache and her eyes sting. She could almost feel the wedding ring she wore on a cord around her neck burning her through the vault suit.  
  
_Nate._  
  
How long had it been since he'd been dead? To Rose, it was no more than a month, even if he'd technically been gone much longer. She gave herself time to mourn and was cold to Preston and the others when they spent their first couple of weeks in Sanctuary because of it. Rose realized very quickly, though, that there wasn't ever much time for mourning in the Commonwealth. It hurt, but people moved on quickly here because they needed to survive. She needed to do the same --and quit shutting everyone out-- for her sake and for her son.

 "I haven't been yet, no. But I'd like that," Rose told him, conjuring up a half-smile.

Hancock grinned again. "It might take a few drinks, but I think you’ll like the Rail. It’s Goodneighbor’s pride and joy. Aside from me, of course," he told her, gesturing for her to follow him as he pushed himself off of the wall. 

Rose chuckled and followed behind him.

"Best part is, it's always just a short walk away. Here we are," Hancock said as they rounded a corner. Two of his Neighborhood Watchmen greeted him as he stepped towards a door into an old subway station. He pushed it open and she murmured a thank you as she brushed past him.

A well-dressed ghoul near the stairs leading down into the Third Rail tipped his hat to them before they descended. At the end of the dim stairway, Rose found herself in a makeshift bar room dotted with drifters. A Mr. Handy with a bowler cap tended to the drinks, and a dark-haired woman in a sparkling red dress stood on a small stage, filling the room with sultry melodies. A haze of smoke hung in the room and it smelled like cigarettes and booze.

 _Not too different than a bar from before_ , Rose thought as she followed Hancock to the bar. A grimy-faced woman hunched over a few bottles peered up at her from a table near the bar. Her reddened eyes flickered to her Pip-Boy and she perked up, cueing a venomous stare from Rose. Preston warned her that the personal computer would be a beacon for thieves because they were so rare. The woman sneered but looked down quickly. Rose turned back, shrugging off her pack, and boosted herself up on the barstool beside Hancock.

 “Charlie! How business, my man?” He said with a wide grin to the Mr. Handy behind the bar. The robot hovered over to the pair with two beers in his claws.

 “Quite well, Mr. Mayor. As usual,” he said, popping the caps off of the bottles and setting them in front of Rose and Hancock.

 “Good to hear, good to hear,” the ghoul said. “I’ll let you know if we need anything else, Chuck.”

 Whitechapel Charlie saluted in ascension and moved away to tend to other patrons. Rose picked up the bottle of beer, examining the faded label before taking a swig. Her face contorted in mild disgust as she swallowed. Hancock laughed before taking a drink of his own.

 “Not your poison?” He teased, and Rose shook her head, her nose still wrinkled.

 “It’s not the worst, but I was never a huge fan of beer,” she told him, but took a second sip anyway.

 “Fair enough,” Hancock said. He shifted on his barstool so he was facing her.

 “So, what’s your story?”

 Rose let out a more bitter laugh than she intended. “That’s a hell of a question.”

 Not taking his eyes off of her, Hancock slid a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket, tapped one out, and lit it. He tilted the box in her direction. She hesitated briefly, pursing her lips in indecision, but plucked one from the pack as resignation crossed her face. He held out the lighter as her lips curled around the cigarette. The small flame illuminated her face as it flickered to life. Once it was lit, he dropped the lighter back into his pocket and took a pull from his own. He blew a cloud of smoke in the air and it faded into the haze above them.

 “That’s why I asked.”

 Rose leaned on her elbows on the bar, chin resting in her palm. She took a long drag herself, a look of contemplation on her face. What _was_ her story?

  _Complicated,_ she thought.

 It could simultaneously be a month long and over two hundred years old. Everything was so different anyway that her life before the bombs would be like a fairy tale to most of the people of the Commonwealth. It even seemed that way to Rose now, like it wasn't even her story anymore. Whenever she thought back to her old life and her old self, it felt like some twisted, impossible fantasy. Now, she was just a furiously determined mother trying to find her son.

 “What do you think?” She asked after a few moments of silence, not sure about giving him the messy truth. Not yet.

 “What do you mean?”

 “I mean, what do you think my story is?”

 Rose turned her head slightly to meet his gaze, one eyebrow raised as though she was daring him to find the answer.

 Hancock sat back, studying her intently.

  _Well, that's a first_ , he thought.

 Clearly she was a former vault dweller; she wore the bright blue suit under her armor and had a Pip-Boy on her forearm. But why come up to the surface? There's no way the wasteland was better than the little safe houses underground.

 “For starters, you came from a vault,” he began. “Decent parents, maybe a brother or sister, but you were the oldest. You’ve never been out in the wasteland before now, I bet. You look pretty smart. Were you a doctor or something?”

 “Is it because of the glasses?”

 “Absolutely.”

 She laughed --a real, genuine laugh-- and Hancock was sure he’d never heard a more beautiful sound.

 Rose waved her hand for him to continue and drained a good bit of her beer. After she set it down, she tapped the side of the bottle to the beat of Magnolia’s song. That's when he noticed the ring on her finger. His eyes flickered back up to her chest, where an identical gold band hung on a string. The rest of the details about her came into focus: the dark circles under her eyes, the tension in her shoulders, the determined yet doleful edge in her gaze.

 “And you lost someone,” he said, his voice now solemn. She gave him a small expression of acknowledgment. “You’re looking for them. Or the person who took ‘em from you.”

 “Not bad, Mr. Mayor. Not bad at all.”

 That was about all Rose was anymore, anyway. She emptied the bottle and slammed it back on the counter harder than she intended. Charlie set a fresh one in front of her before she could blink. She glanced up to find Hancock still staring at her, looking somber.

 “I'm sorry.”

 Rose sighed and gave him a weak smile. “I… thanks. If I've learned anything being out here, it's that there's little time for mourning. I'm getting through it.”

 Hancock just nodded. She wasn’t wrong, but he knew it didn’t make losing people hurt any less.

 “But… I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Not tonight. I want to just enjoy a night at a bar with a new friend,” she said, and held up her beer to him. He grinned, clinking his bottle against hers.

 “Fine by me.”

 It was the best night Rose had in the past month. They stayed there, just talking, longer than most of the patrons, even past the end of Magnolia’s set for the night. Hancock told her all about Goodneighbor --its people, its history, everything-- and his unorthodox rise to power, which she had to admit sounded like something from a movie. She pictured him standing on the balcony of the Old State House, the body of a mob boss hanging beneath him, and the citizens mesmerized by his presence just as they’d been the day she met him. With a start like that, it was no wonder he was still mayor. After a few more beers and even a couple shots, Rose started to talk about her journey in the Commonwealth thus far. She'd helped found a settlement in Sanctuary Hills and began spreading the word about the Minutemen, and had already gained the support of a farm near Sanctuary.

 “Preston actually asked me to be General before I left,” Rose said in slight disbelief. She traced lazy circles around the rim of a shot glass.

 “I believe it,” Hancock said with a salute. She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile.

 Whitechapel Charlie hovered over with more beer, but Rose held up a hand.

 “I probably shouldn't, thanks. It's--” she raised her arm to look at her Pip-Boy, “fuck. It's late.”

 Hancock turned to survey the near-silent bar. A single drifter remained, asleep on one of the couches. “Must be,” he observed, and reached into his pocket. “How much do I owe you, Chuck?”

 The Mr. Handy gathered up their empty bottles and glasses. “You know your caps are no good here, Mayor Hancock.

 “Ah, you're too good to me.”

 “Always a pleasure, sir.”

 Rose stretched her arms above her head before scooting off of the barstool, and her feet hit the ground with a heavier thud than usual. She wobbled a little and Hancock caught her arm.

 “Sorry. Been a while,” she muttered as she steadied herself.

 He slid off of his own stool, not letting go of her. He bent down to retrieve her pack and slung it over his shoulder before they headed towards the stairs together. “Not a problem. Where you headed? Got a room at the Rexford?”

 Rose shook her head, the candles on the stairs swimming in her vision. “I need to get one.”

 “Nah, don't worry about it then. You can stay in my room. I usually just sleep in my office anyway,” he told her. She opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off. “I insist. And it'll save you some caps, anyway.”

 Rose couldn't argue with that, especially in her foggy state of mind, so she let him guide her out of the Rail and into the Old State House. She felt the gaze of the Neighborhood Watchmen in the building as they climbed the spiral staircase. Hancock led her to his room and sat her down on the old bed.

 “You need anything?” He asked, setting her bag down beside the nightstand.

 She rubbed her eyes under her glasses and gave him a lazy smile. “No. I'm okay. Thanks.”

 “Anytime,” he said, and turned, strolling towards the doorway. He heard her undo her armor and flop back on the bed with a content sigh.

 “Goodnight,” she said, almost dreamily.

 “Goodnight, Rose.”


	3. Caught in the Middle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took forever to get up!! I've had the worst case of writer's block and I just moved back to college (and I've had to handle nonsense with classes and blah blah blah.)
> 
> This chapter is shorter, but I feel like it's really been holding me up so I'm going to go ahead and give it to you guys. Next update will be better, I promise ❤️
> 
> Song: Caught in the Middle by Paramore

As soon as her eyes fluttered open, Rose scrambled to sit up. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her foggy vision, and whipped her head around in confusion. Another moment passed before she remembered where she was. She exhaled, flopping back down on the bed and staring up at the ceiling of Hancock's bedroom with a smile. Last night was just so... _normal_ .  
Just a night at the bar with a friend, getting a little drunk and having a good time. Sure, it was in an old subway station with a ghoul and two hundred-year-old beer, but that was the way things were now.  
  
She pushed herself up and swung her legs over the bed to stand, her usual frown settling back into her expression. As nice as it was, Rose needed to get back to reality. She'd gotten more caps off of Bobbi than she expected, even if it hadn't been with the most orthodox methods. It was time for her to move on to Diamond City and find the detective some caravaners told her about. She stretched and picked up her bag, securing it on her back before exiting the room. Through the doorway on the other side of the spiral staircase, she spotted Hancock sitting on a couch. His feet were propped up on a coffee table littered with chems and his face was buried in a ragged book.

 

Rose debated making her way down the staircase without another word and never looking back. It would be the easiest move, and she’d already gotten what she needed out of Goodneighbor. Hancock was the mayor, anyway, so he was probably thanking people for doing his dirty work all the time. It was doubtful she’d be anything more than another name on a list of decent mercs. Then again, Rose had no idea what she could be getting herself into on the path to finding Shaun, so having a friend if she needed a favor wouldn’t hurt.

 

Hancock’s head jerked up when Rose knocked on the doorframe.  
  
"Morning, Vaultie," he said, smiling when he saw her. "Sleep okay?"  
  
"Yeah, thanks. And thanks for letting me crash here."  
  
He waved one hand dismissively before refocusing on the book. “I owed you one.”  
  
She gave him a curious look and crossed the room, plopping down on the couch opposite Hancock.  
  
"I thought that's what the drinks were for."  
  
Hancock leaned forward to toss the old book onto the coffee table, scattering the mess of chems, and looked up to meet her eyes. He noticed again --just as he had at the Rail the night before-- the way her presence filled a room, like she was exactly where she belonged even though she'd never even sat on that couch before.

 

"It's not just that. After last night, you got me feeling a little guilty," he admitted as he adjusted his tricorn.  
  
"Why? You didn't do anything wrong," she said, confused. He shook his head.  
  
"Well," he began, "it was no mistake you heard about the job with Bobbi. I got my guys to mention it around you so you'd go check it out. I already knew what the deal was, what shit she was trying to pull. I just needed someone to get the job done for me, and you seemed like the right one for it."  
  
Rose said nothing, but didn't avert her now-stony gaze from Hancock.  
  
"I knew if I hadn't stepped in, you would've taken out Finn yourself that day you got here. Figured you wouldn't hesitate to take care of Bobbi too, if needed. That..." he paused, and scratched the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable, "that was kinda shitty to use you like that."  
  
Rose sat back on the couch, arms crossed and a slight frown on her face. He couldn't quite read her expression, but still she stayed quiet so he kept rambling.  
  
"Been like that a lot lately. It's starting to feel dictatorial. I spend my time pulling strings like some kind of tyrant."  
  
He sat forward and shuffled through some Jet canisters until he found an unused one. He took a hit and with a deep breath his body released tension Rose hadn't quite noticed before. The little red inhaler clattered back onto the coffee table as he let it go.  
  
"I need to take a walk. Need to get a grip on what really matters," he continued, his words a little more loose than before. He swept a hand across the air above him as though the words appeared there. “Living free.”

  
Rose raised an eyebrow, studying the ghoul carefully. Hancock didn’t really need to tell her that he’d set her up, but he did anyway. She respected that, and she respected him. From what little time she’d spent in Goodneighbor, Rose could tell that he had a nice little system set up here with some pretty loyal citizens. Drugged-up and reckless as he might’ve appeared, he was still smart and calculating. The more she considered everything he’d told her and everything she’d seen, the more Hancock could be boiled down to one adjective in Rose’s mind: useful. She spoke before she could talk herself out of it.  
  
"You could come with me."  
  
Brief surprise followed by a look of contemplation overtook Hancock's face. He rubbed his chin.  
  
"You're not mad?" He asked, suspicious.  
  
"Not really," Rose sighed as she smoothed her wild curls.  
  
"You look mad."  
  
She smirked. "I always look mad."  
  
Hancock chuckled but still looked unconvinced.  
  
"The politics of it all doesn't change that I needed the money," she insisted. "And I don't have time to be bothered by shit like that."  
  
Rose didn't exactly appreciate being used, but she figured in a town like Goodneighbor that it wasn't anything personal. She wasn't lying, either. Hancock seemed like someone who could help her survive out there, so she didn't have time to hold grudges. Plus, she couldn't deny it to herself; she'd had a good time with him the night before and knew even just the company would be nice. The wasteland wasn't just unforgiving. It was lonely.  
  
Hancock nodded in understanding. "Cutthroat all the way around, huh?"

 

"You could call it that," she said with a shrug. "Is that a yes?"  


Hancock knew what he needed to say. He’d been hitting the chems a little harder than usual lately and even with Fahrenheit covering for him, he’d gotten a little behind on business. There was word than Sinjin and Marowski were getting bored with their territory and no doubt itching for more. Just yesterday some of his Watch shot a synth who’d replaced poor Sammy. Things had been worse in Goodneighbor, sure, but they’d certainly been better too. The right answer for his town was clear as day.

  
"Yeah,” he finally said. “Yeah. You seem like the right kind of trouble."

  


* * *

 

  
  
  
Rose leaned against the cool brick wall that housed Daisy's shop. Back at the Old State House, she and Hancock agreed to meet there after an hour so he could, as he said, get his and Goodneighbor's shit together. She almost just hung around, but the daggers that appeared in Fahrenheit's eyes when Hancock told her he was leaving made it clear it was best to wait elsewhere. She wanted to check out Kill or Be Killed anyway, so she spent a bit of time talking with the assaultron behind the counter and haggling over a few weapons.  
  
She slid the brass knuckles that she bought down over her battered fingers. The purple and yellow blooms across her fist reminded her of the paint stains that never seemed to vanish from her hands before the war. When Rose was pregnant, Nate liked to joke that Shaun was going to come out with colorful hands himself. Her fist clenched around the weapon and she forced out a breath as she heard footsteps approach.  
  
"Ready to head out?" Hancock asked, now standing beside her.  A worn leather pack hung on his shoulders and he clutched the butt of a double barrel shotgun in one hand.  
  
Rose nodded and raised her arm to tap in a few commands on her Pip-Boy. She turned toward the gate out of Goodneighbor, Hancock by her side.  
  
"What's with the knuckles? You gonna haze me?" He asked, nodding down at her fist.  
  
"Not if I don't have to," she said, earning a laugh from Hancock. She raised her hand in his direction to show him the rainbow of bruises. "I actually punched this... dog, or something like that, in the head. It attacked me when I was sleeping so I wasn't exactly throwing my finest swings. I figured this would help if it happened again."  
  
"Ouch. Probably a mongrel. That what got you on your eye?"  
  
"Yeah," Rose told him, and ghosted her fingertips along the bottom of the long gash stretching from above her eyebrow down to her cheek. It was finally scabbing over and her vision had cleared completely the day before. The scar would be ugly, but at least she could still see.  
  
"Damn. Rough luck," he said, pausing as they reached the edge of the town. "Where are we headed anyway, Vaultie? Guess I should've asked sooner."  
  
"Diamond City," Rose replied as the gate swung shut behind them. Hancock cursed, spurring a look of confusion from Rose.  
  
"They're not big fans of ghouls in Diamond City," he sighed, "but they don't give me too much trouble about getting in. Perks of being a mayor. Still, the locals ain't the nicest."  
  
She paused, grabbing his arm as he strolled past her. Hancock turned and was struck by the concern in her eyes. It wasn't pity, really, but thinly veiled anger. He almost worried she was going to punch him.  
  
"Are you sure you want to go?" Rose asked, not relinquishing her grip on his sleeve. "I didn't know that was a thing. I can go alone and come back for you, if you want."  
  
Her expression softened slightly as she spoke and Hancock was taken aback.  
  
"I... yeah. Yeah, it's no big deal," he said, giving her an odd look. "Thanks for asking."  
  
Rose held his arm a moment more and studied him, as though she was searching for sincerity. She let go and continued her march forward.  
  
They spoke little after that, aside from Hancock's occasional suggestion on what alleys to take or avoid. There was heavier tension in the air than usual. Both Rose and Hancock half-hoped something would attack at each corner they turned, because neither really knew how the other could hold their ground in the wasteland. They’d already agreed to travel together, sure, but whether or not it would be worth it was up in the air. 


	4. In the Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels like I crammed a lot into this chapter, but I hope everyone enjoys it! I can't wait to delve more into Rose with you guys. She feels like such a complex character to write sometimes and I'm grateful for you guys being patient with me while I try to do so! :)
> 
> Song: In the Light by The Lumineers

Rose wasn’t sure what she was expecting when she first saw Diamond City, but it wasn’t this. Sure, it was a little cleaner and more secure than probably everywhere else in the Commonwealth, but the whole ‘Great Green Jewel’ nonsense seemed to be a bit of an exaggeration. It was just the old stadium filled with ramshackle buildings.

 

“So why are we here?” Hancock asked as he dropped his shotgun from its defensive position. They stood at the base of the staircase that led into the center of Diamond City.

 

Rose kept her fist clenched around the brass knuckles. “I met some people who told me there was a good detective here. I figured he might be able to help me find someone.”

 

Hancock nodded. “Must be Nick Valentine. Great guy, even better detective. He’s an old friend of mine.”

 

The anxiety in Rose’s chest ebbed slightly. The detective was real and was friends with Hancock, so he was probably a decent guy. “Can you take me to him?”

 

Hancock took the lead as they steered through the market. Rose ogled at everything, and the citizens ogled right back. They all seemed to be a little less hunched over and a little cleaner than the people Rose encountered in the rest of the Commonwealth, but a certain sharp wariness in their expressions made her dislike the city and its people a little sooner than she expected. They stared hard at her for some reason. It took only a moment to realize, though, that it wasn’t her they were staring at.

 

“Hey!” A deep voice rang out from across the market. Rose and Hancock both turned to find a man pushing himself up off of a stool at the noodle stand. He marched towards them with a snarl across his rugged face, jabbing a thick finger in Hancock’s direction. “We don’t let your kind in this city.”

 

It was only the afternoon, but his breath was thick with liquor. He stepped in closer towards Hancock but jerked back when Rose shoved herself between the two, the back of her head just reaching Hancock’s chest. He sucked in a breath, surprised by her sudden closeness. The man’s lip curled.

 

“Get the fuck away from us,” she growled before he could open his mouth again. She raised her fist just so, letting the sunlight glint off of the metal knuckles. The man--though not quite Hancock’s height--towered over Rose, but she stood as though she was the one glowering down at him. A pair of guards hurried over from behind the drunkard.

 

“Hey, hey. Enough of this shit. Hancock’s welcome here,” one of them grumbled, not sounding too pleased with the fact. Rose didn’t avert her malicious gaze from the man, who was clearly still fuming. Neither of them moved, and the guard shook his head, his voice a little more forceful. “Get outta here, all of you.”

 

The man took a step back and Rose felt Hancock relax behind her, but she caught the citizen’s hesitation, the way his foot didn’t quite plant completely behind him and how his fists balled up more tightly. The guards lunged for him but she was faster, swinging as soon as he charged them. Her fist connected with his jaw with a sickening crunch and he hit the dirt with a garbled cry, clutching his bloodied face. The second guard moved towards Rose, but the first caught his arm.

 

“He tried to attack them. She did what she had to do,” the first guard said, eyeing Rose. “But you two cause any more trouble and I won't be so nice. Got it?”

 

“We got it,” Hancock said quickly and he grabbed Rose’s arm, tugging her out of the market and into a sort of alley between the metal buildings. Rose heard the faint hum of neon before spotting the sign pointing to the detective’s office. It cast a dim red glow over the two. She turned to find Hancock staring at her with a strange expression.

 

“What was that?” His tone teetered between awed and amused. Rose slipped the knuckles from her fingers and stuck them in her belt.

 

“What was what?”

 

“I could've handled him.”

 

“I know.” It was the truth, but Rose hadn’t cared.

 

They just stared at each other for a moment. Rose was really starting to think the way neon glittered in Hancock’s eyes was one of her favorite sights in the wasteland. Her eyes were the first to glance away, but when she looked back Hancock gave her a crooked smile she couldn’t help but return.

 

* * *

 

 

When Ellie, Nick Valentine’s assistant, explained to them that Nick himself was missing, Hancock watched about ten different emotions flicker across Rose's face. She settled on a strange mix between kindness and determination. She quickly assured the distressed young woman that she'd find her boss, even offering a few words of comfort and turning down caps Ellie tried to offer before they left. Hancock could tell it was genuine, but the way the almost motherly smile slid off of Rose's face when they stepped outside Valentine's office alarmed him.  
  
"You okay?" He’d asked as she leaned up against the metal wall of the building. She shook her head and pressed her fingertips to her temple. Her entire demeanor had changed in an instant.  
  
"I just..." she sighed. “No. I’m not okay. I have to go find someone who I need to help me find someone. It’s a fucking joke.”

 

“Who do you need help finding?”

 

Hancock was under the assumption she was looking for her spouse because of the ring she kept on a cord around her neck, but she’d yet to actually give him any real details. He eyed her patiently as she contemplated his question.

 

"Can it wait? I just want to get over to Park Street Station before nightfall. I'll explain everything then, I promise,” Rose told him.

 

Hancock didn’t like having such vague circumstances, but the frustration and pain in her eyes tugged at his heartstrings. He nodded once.

 

“Let’s head out now, then.”

 

* * *

 

 

The walk from Diamond City to Boston Common was far tenser than the one from Goodneighbor. Hancock could feel Rose’s fury boiling in the air around them. He wasn’t sure he’d ever met anyone who had the ability to be so unfailingly angry. Sure, Hancock himself had a bit of a temper and could be a little too impulsive when he got upset, but it was nothing compared to Rose. Nothing they came across that was unfriendly stood a chance. A small band of raiders spotted them as they passed by the old Atomatoys HQ but they barely had a chance to fire a shot before Rose unloaded what had to be an entire clip from her rifle. Hancock got in a few shots himself, but almost didn’t even need to help. When one of the injured raiders tried to run away limping, Rose snatched up a barbed wire-wrapped bat from the ground near one of the fallen raiders. She caught up with him in a few strides, ignoring his pained pleading and brought the bat down hard on his head. He hit the pavement with a wet thud, and Hancock watched as she stared down at the grisly mess.

 

The heat in Rose’s chest didn’t subside. She knew no one besides the mob was to blame for Nick’s disappearance, but goddammit if she didn’t want to bash someone’s head in for it _now_. Here she was--doing just that--but it didn’t make her feel any better. It took a lot of effort not to bring the bat down the remains of his bloody skull a few more times.

 

_A missing detective. Just my fucking luck._

 

She shook her head and nudged the raider’s limp arm out of the way with her boot, bending down to empty his pistol. She dumped the handful of bullets into her own pack before yanking the raider’s off his back. Rose fished out a long syringe with two canisters strapped to either side.

 

She glanced up at Hancock, holding up the syringe. “What’s this?”

 

“Psycho. Little drug that makes you… well, psycho. It gives you that extra umph. Could probably help someone take on a super mutant,” he paused, nodding down at the bodies strewn across the ground. “It’d probably help _you_ take on a deathclaw.”

 

Rose shot him a look before refocusing on the drug. She turned the syringe over in her hand and, after a moment of consideration, dropped it in her pack. She stood and made her rounds to the other bodies

 

Hancock raised a bare brow but said nothing. Chems were the opposite of a problem in his book, but Psycho wasn’t usually his go-to. He already pitied whoever would be up against Rose if and when she took it. That combined with her ruthless-executioner attitude would no doubt make for a quick--and probably one-sided--fight.

 

Rose stood as she finished her scavenging. She strapped her rifle to her back and knocked the bat against the inside of her shoe, knocking bits of gore onto the road.

 

Hancock stepped over the bodies to stand beside her. “Shall we?”

 

She hefted the bat to her shoulder, claiming it as her own, and trudged forward in silent ascension. The two continued their walk to Boston Common.

 

* * *

 

 

Hancock really started to question his decision to leave Goodneighbor when she ripped the door off of its hinges.  
  
It’d been a long day when they finally decided to hole up in the old Bolyston Club near Park Street Station. Hancock had already seen plenty flares of Rose’s temper, but this was just too much. He shouldn’t have been surprised, really, but... _shit._ Nothing was safe. Not even the damn door. He wondered when she’d take a swing at him.

 

He watched her from the middle of the skeleton-riddled room as she dropped the remains of the door beside her behind the bar. She disappeared through the empty doorway and he listened as she rummaged carelessly through the stuff inside. Hancock dropped his pack and shotgun on a table and began clearing bones off of the couches and chairs.

 

“Don’t touch the wine,” Rose said a few minutes later. Hancock turned to find her out of the side room and now hunched over the terminal behind the bar. “It’s all poisoned.”

 

Hancock eyed the dusty bottles he’d dropped his stuff beside warily. “Poisoned?”

 

“Yeah. They all,” Rose paused and muttered a curse, still tapping away furiously at the terminal, “they all came here after the bombs fell. Committed suicide together because they didn’t want to live in the wasteland.”

 

“Can’t say I blame ‘em,” he muttered, kicking a skull into the pile he’d made by the window. Rose just shrugged.

 

“You find anything in there?” Hancock asked after another minute of her messing with the terminal.

 

“A safe,” she began, pausing as a loud click came from the closet, “that I just opened.” Rose waved him over as she stepped back into the closet and pried open the small metal safe in the wall. Hancock stood behind her as she picked through the contents of the safe, taking a box of shotgun shells and two canisters of Jet when she handed them to him.

 

“Rose?” He said after she tossed a stack of pre-war cash to the ground.

 

“What?”

 

Her voice was still sharp and short, as it’d been since they left Diamond City. She kept poking through the safe and didn’t turn around.

 

“Hey, look at me a sec,” Hancock said, careful not to sound patronizing. Her hands froze and she retracted them slowly before turning to look at him with raised eyebrows. “I know it’s only been a day, but It can’t be like this all the time, Rose.”

 

“Be like what, Hancock?” She spoke through gritted teeth.

 

He shook his head, walking backward from behind the bar. “Like this. You gotta talk to me. Bottling shit up clearly doesn’t work well for you.”

 

Rose balled her fists and followed him into the center room. “You don’t know me. Or what works well for me.”

 

“I know ripping doors off ain’t the best coping method.”

 

Hancock fell back onto one of the couches, sending a cloud of dust up into the air. Rose stayed standing, glaring down at him hard. She was even angrier now, but mostly because she knew he was right.

 

“Fuck you,” she spat back, unable to come up with any kind of retort.

 

He held up his hands, unaffected. “Look, I don’t think I’m asking for much. You talked to me last night and it wasn’t that hard. We’re gonna be traveling together now, which means it’d be handy to know what your deal is. Those raiders you absolutely demolished earlier did you no wrong and neither did that damn door, so don’t act like it's nothing. And besides, you said earlier you’d explain when we got here.”

 

Rose felt her nails cutting into her palms as he spoke. She turned away from him and began pacing across the room. Her head felt like it was going to pop. The way he spoke to her reminded her so much of the way Nate did whenever she was having a hard time. Never one to pity her or beat around the bush. She smacked a dirty vase off of a shelf, sending it flying near Hancock’s neat pile of bones. It shattered on impact.

 

_He’s gone now, Rose. And you can’t help yourself. You need to let someone else._

 

Mama Murphy whispered those words to Rose their first night in Sanctuary Hills with Preston and the others. The statement jolted Rose out of a depressed stupor but no matter how much she demanded it, the old woman couldn’t elaborate. _I’m sorry. It’s just something I thought you needed to hear, hon,_ she’d added before hobbling off to bed. She’d been right, of course, but it didn’t make it any easier for Rose to listen. Until now.

 

It took a moment before she let herself relax. She wiped her bloody palms on her thighs and moved to sit beside Hancock on the couch, less tense but still stiff.

 

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, her words finally losing their bitten-off quality. Exhaustion quickly replaced the sharp edges of her expression. “It’s all a long, complicated explanation. But, I guess you’re right. You need to know.”

 

Hancock nodded, pulling a cigarette from his coat and settling in to listen.

 

“When you guessed I was from a vault, you weren’t wrong. But you weren’t exactly right, either. I lived in Sanctuary Hills, not far from Concord, over two-hundred years ago. Before the war. When the bombs fell, I went with my husband and son to Vault 111. We thought we were going to live there and be safe, but they froze us. I don’t know why, but I guess it doesn’t really matter anymore. Anyway, the first time we woke up, two people opened my husband’s chamber to take Shaun-- um, our son. Nate wouldn’t give him up, so they shot him.”

 

Rose’s throat tightened. This was the first time she’d spoken about what happened, at least to this degree. She gave Preston and Sturges a vague rundown of why she was leaving Sanctuary before she set out into the Commonwealth, but not much besides the fact that she was looking for her son. Her hand moved to cover the gold band she wore around her neck and she stared hard at the floor.

 

“I’ve never felt so helpless. I could barely move in that goddamn ice box. I had to watch Nate die trying to protect our son and I couldn’t do a thing. Then the motherfucker who killed my husband came up to me and called me the backup. I still have no clue what that means, but after that they re-froze me and I woke up again god knows how long after.”

 

Jaw clenched, she lifted her gaze back to Hancock, whose shocked stare only made it harder to keep her composure.

 

“I spent about a month helping Preston out in Sanctuary and I wish I could’ve stayed and done more for the Minutemen, but I had to start looking for Shaun. So the morning after Preston asked me to be general, I left on the promise of helping other settlements. I wasn’t really sure where exactly I was going, but I just had to leave. I met some caravaners a day or so later that told me about some detective in Diamond City, but I got lost and ended up in Goodneighbor. I decided to stay to find work. And now here I am.”

 

Rose exhaled. She felt strangely lighter. As much as it hurt, it felt good to finally say what had happened out loud. Hancock kept staring at her, cigarette dangling from what was left of his lips.

 

“Fuck.”

 

She couldn’t help the bitter laughter that escaped her.

 

“Yeah. That about sums up how I feel too,” she said.

 

Hancock tapped his fingers on the arm of the couch, mulling over what to say next. How could he respond to something like that? The over-200-years-old thing was crazy, but he believed her. He knew the moment he first laid eyes on Rose that the wasteland didn’t have its claws in her for very long. She was clearly vicious and intelligent, but ignorant to the little things that people in the Commonwealth were raised to understand. And now he almost felt bad for poking at her anger issues. The poor woman lost everything. Hancock was just impressed she kept herself going the way she did.

 

“We’ll find him.”

 

Rose’s brow furrowed.

 

“We’re gonna find your son, Rose. I promise.”

 

Hancock locked eyes with her, his expression so full of sincerity that she felt her eyes sting. Rose didn’t even know this man, but here he was promising to help her find her son he hadn’t even known existed before tonight. She pushed her hair back and nodded, unable to speak. She rose from her spot on the couch beside Hancock and moved to the one adjacent to it. Armor was shed unceremoniously and dropped onto the dingy floor before she removed her glasses and set them gently on the table. Rose glanced back at Hancock.

 

“Thank you.” It was all she could manage.

 

He nodded, saying nothing as she curled up on the couch and fell asleep almost immediately.

 

Hancock watched her for a while as he turned the events of the day over again and again in his head. His life hadn’t exactly been all sunshine and rainbows, but what happened to Rose was just fucked up. He couldn’t imagine how lost she felt right now, and he was bound and determined to do anything he needed to do to help her.

 

His gaze roved over her face, looking softer and younger than it did when she was awake. Even the jagged scar over her eye didn’t seem as menacing.

 

She was really something else.

 

The way she planted herself between him and that Diamond City dick still struck him. No one would’ve ever done that for him before, and not just because they knew he could handle himself. Hancock also couldn’t deny the heat that shot up his spine when she’d brushed against him. Or ignore the way her vault suit might’ve been a little more snug than necessary, as he noted on their not-so-unpleasant trek with him following a few steps behind her.

 

He shook his head and pulled the Jet she’d given him earlier from his pocket, smiling down at it without thinking. Rose made him feel a lot. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was a lot. He took a long hit, exhaling slowly as the world around him settled into the Jet-induced haze he loved. Hancock stared at the ceiling in silence until he dozed off, his last thoughts of the way Rose grinned up at him between the buildings in Diamond City.

 


	5. Renegade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoy!!
> 
> And if anyone ever wants to poke around all my Rose nonsense, she has a tag on my blog. Feel free to explore, but be wary of possible spoilers!!
> 
> joshhutchersonscat.tumblr.com/tagged/rose
> 
> Song: Renegade by The Paper Kites

Rose sneezed almost immediately after she woke up. She swiped at her nose to fight away the dust from the old couch before rolling over and pawing at the table for her glasses. When she pushed herself up, she jumped at the body stretched across the other couch before remembering she wasn’t traveling alone anymore. Hancock’s hat lay atop his face and Rose couldn’t help but smile at the soft snores that left him as his chest rose and fell. She hadn’t acknowledged how lonely she really was until now. Even asleep, it was nice to have Hancock nearby.

 

After a moment of fiddling, the soft drone of Ella Fitzgerald’s voice streamed quietly from Rose’s Pip-Boy and she set about readying herself to rescue the detective. Her rifle and pistol were reloaded with practiced hands and laid on the table before her. She set extra clips beside them to be slipped into her belt later. She sipped periodically from a can of purified water in between handfuls of stale Sugar Bombs. Rose didn’t notice Hancock stir, engrossed in carefully polishing the serrated edge of a knife she’d found behind the bar last night as she hummed along to the radio.

 

Hancock groaned as he pushed the hat back up on the top of his head. Even through the dusty window, the sun was just _too fucking bright_. He rubbed his eyes before peering over at his companion. Rose looked almost as peaceful as she had sleeping, even while clutching the bayonet.

 

“How you feeling?” Hancock asked, crossing his arms behind his head.

 

Rose looked up from her work with a small smile. “Better. Thank you.”

 

He nodded, watching her meticulous examination of the rest of her weapons. Rose set down the no-longer bloodstained knuckles and turned to Hancock once more.

 

“Do you know anything about these guys we’re going up against?”

 

Hancock dug a few Mentats out of his pack and sat up before tossing them back. “Yeah. Used to do business with Malone, but he was too fuckin’ annoying for what little he had to offer. His Triggermen caused more trouble than I could tolerate. Submachine guns, trigger-happy, bad aim. Too cocky for their own good. And Skinny’s just a small-time man with a big head, so I don’t think we’ll have too much to worry about.”

 

“Big numbers?”

 

He shrugged. “Not as big as some of the other gangs, but now that he’s got ahold of Vault 114, I don’t doubt he’s picked up a few extra guys.”

 

Rose strapped a ragged bracer to her right forearm and nodded. “Okay. How do you want to go about this?”

 

“That’s up to you, sister.”

 

He watched as Rose re-laced her boots, lips pursed and clearly deep in thought. She seemed the type to go in guns blazing, which would probably be alright against Skinny and his gang. They really took to that old mobster look from the comics--donning dirty suits, suspenders, slacks, and the like--so it wouldn’t take much to put them down.

 

“I’m not the quietest. That hasn’t served me wrong yet.” She gave him a smile tinged with mischief.

 

Hancock couldn’t help his grin. _Guns blazing._ “Fair enough. You ready to get going?”

 

A loud click ensued as she locked her Pip-Boy back into place on her left arm and she stood. “Yeah. Whenever you are.”

 

* * *

 

 

Boston Common was unsettlingly quiet as they stepped out into the early morning sunlight. Park Street Station sat just across the lawn. As they crept through the Common’s center, Rose slowed and eyed the murky pond and the hulking swan that sat at its middle. Hancock grabbed her arm and steered her away, a finger raised to his ruined lips.

 

Rose whispered as quietly as she could manage. “What’s wrong? What is that?”

 

Hancock didn’t speak until they reached the subway station entrance.

 

“Don’t really know, but something big lives in that water. Rumor has it, it stalks around the Common real late at night. I don’t want to wake it up right now.”

 

Rose threw a glance back at the pond and she could’ve sworn she saw the swan move. She hurried down the stairs and slipped through the door into the station with Hancock close behind her. Another set of stairs stood before them, at the bottom of which stood a wide doorway where muffled voices could be heard. There was no alarm in their voices, so it was likely they didn’t hear Rose and Hancock come in. Rose pressed her back against the wall and moved slowly down the stairs until she stood beside the doorway, where she peered quickly around the frame. She turned back and held up three fingers to Hancock, who tapped his shotgun and raised an eyebrow in question. Rose held up one finger, and then gestured to her bat and held up two more. Hancock gripped his gun and crept down the stairs, positioning himself on the other side of the doorway. _Ready?_ she mouthed, and he nodded.

 

Rose stepped into the doorway and leaned against the frame.

 

“Morning boys.” Her voice was sickly sweet and sent a shiver down Hancock’s spine. He couldn’t tell if it was good or bad.

 

It was almost comedic how the three turned at the same time with identically dumbfounded expressions, which quickly vanished as Rose fired her pistol into the knee of the Triggerman closest to the door. He collapsed with a yelp. The other two fumbled for a grip on their weapons as she crossed the room and brought the bat down on the face of the one on the ground. Hancock let loose on the other two, pumping out two quick shots, one of which found its home in one of their thighs. Rose turned just in time to block a swing from the uninjured one with her own bat. She shoved his bat away and rammed herself into him, her shoulder hitting his chest hard. He was even skinnier than Hancock, so with her weight she practically sent him flying into the wall. Hancock managed another shot in the chest to the one who got hit in the thigh, and he went down. He turned and fired again at the one who Rose threw into the wall, catching him in the neck before he could try and stand.

 

They moved on through the rest of the subway and into the vault, taking out every Triggerman they came across almost effortlessly. After last night, Rose was more comfortable with being with Hancock and it showed; they fell into an easy rhythm while fighting that kept them both unharmed. They made it to the atrium in the vault where they climbed a few floors up quietly so to not alert the Triggerman outside the Overseer’s office, who was having a conversation with whoever was inside. Rose swung the rifle off her back and handed it to Hancock.

 

“Why don’t you?” His voice was almost inaudible.

 

Rose shrugged. “Just have a feeling you’re a better shot.”

 

Hancock didn’t argue and lined up to fire. He blew out a long, steady breath, and pulled the trigger. The shot rang out in the atrium and the man dropped as the bullet tore through his chest. Rose grinned and nudged Hancock.

 

“Told you.”

 

He shook his head and handed her rifle back. They waited a moment to see if anyone else would emerge, and when no one did they moved to peer into the window of the office. It was dark, but they could see tall figure leaned back against the desk at the center of the room.

 

“You two better get this door open. They’ll be down here looking for Dino in no time.”

 

Rose nodded at the man and began tapping at the terminal. Hancock watched her fingers fly across the keys when...

 

_Shit._

 

It hit Hancock all at once that he hadn’t told Rose much about Nick. As soon as he opened his mouth to do so, the door to the Overseer’s office slid open and it was too late. Rose stepped into the room, gaze set on the figure in the shadows. The flick of a lighter illuminated the grey, worn face of Nick Valentine.

 

“Gotta love the irony of the reverse damsel in distress scenario. Question is, why did our heroine risk life and limb for an old private eye?”

 

Nick stepped into the light, his glowing yellow eyes considering Rose carefully. Her expression flickered to surprise as she took in the strange-looking detective. She stared at him, open-mouthed, in slight awe. Nick glanced over at Hancock, his cigarette pinched between two spidery metal fingers.  

 

“Mr. Mayor,” he said with a nod. “It’s been a while.”

 

“Good to see you, Nicky.”

 

“Who’s your mute friend here?”

 

Rose cleared her throat. “Sorry. You… I’m Rose. We’re here because Ellie said you’d been missing a while. And I need your help.”

 

Nick smiled and tipped his hat. “Nice to meet you, Rose. I’d be happy to help with whatever you need, but I think we need to get out of here first. Like I said, they’ll  be down here to check in with muscles-for-brains any minute now.”

 

Rose nodded once and the three exited the office. She paused to take the pistol from Dino’s body and handed it to Nick. They were just about to make it out of the common area of the old abandoned vault when voices--sounding particularly angry--appeared up ahead.

 

Nick crouched behind a wall, not far from where the voices came. “Shit. Thought we might actually skip them. How do you two want to play this?”

 

Hancock looked at Rose for a decision.

 

“They know we’re here,” she said, swinging her bat up to rest on her shoulder. “They had to have seen the bodies from before. Let’s just plow on through.”

 

Nick’s eyes widened but he didn’t disagree. They waited on either side of the exit for the voices to grow closer.

 

“‘Ey, Din-OH!”

 

As soon as the first dirty shoe stepped a toe through the doorway, Rose swung. The barbed wire tore through the Triggerman’s white button-down and spots of red bloomed across his torso. His companions cried out in alarm, scrambling for their weapons as Rose shoved past their wounded comrade with Nick and Hancock in tow. Gunfire ripped through the room as the three charged the remaining Triggermen. Two collapsed under Rose’s bat, and the remaining three met the barrels of Hancock’s shotgun and Nick’s pistol. Hancock exhaled as he fired to send the last Triggerman crumpling to the ground.

 

Rose let out a pained curse. Hancock turned to find her clutching her hip over a slowly growing dark red spot on her vault suit. She wriggled her pack onto one arm and struggled to dig around inside. Hancock was beside her in two long strides.

 

“Let me,” he said gently, sliding the pack off of her and pulling a stimpak from it. He gestured to the table nearby and helped Rose boost herself up to sit. She gritted her teeth as Hancock probed the wound.

 

“Think it’s just grazed, Vaultie. You’ll be okay.”

 

He pulled the torn bit of her vault suit aside to inject the stimpak. Curls of black ink peaked out from under the fabric and he swallowed. He quickly pushed the plunger the rest of the way down and pulled his hand away to stop himself from looking under more of the suit.

 

Rose gave him smile as he tossed the stimpak away. “Thanks, Hancock.”

 

“Anytime.”

 

They waited as the flesh on her hip knitted itself back together. Nick pried a submachine gun from the dead grip of one of the Triggermen and watched them carefully. He wondered who this woman could be. How was she able to pull Hancock from his comfortable seat in Goodneighbor? As far as Nick knew, he’d been sitting easy for a while. People didn’t just give that up for nothing. The way Hancock’s gaze rarely left her as they sat there in silence gave him a partial answer to his questioning thoughts.

 

The strange warm sensation on Rose’s hip flashed hotly. She bit down on her lip as she looked at her wound--or where the wound used to be--and the heat vanished. Her fingers brushed over the mended skin. She figured she’d always been fascinated at the way stimpaks worked, no matter how many she used.

 

“Whoa, you sure you’re alright, sister?” Hancock held back a wince as she scooted off of the table. “You might wanna take a minute.”

 

Rose wiped the blood from her hands onto her thighs. “I’m fine.”

 

She snatched up her bat and pack before stepping over the bodies to continue on. Nick and Hancock exchanged a glance before following shortly behind her

 

The old detective dropped his voice to a murmur. “Who is exactly this broad, John?”

 

“I don’t really know yet, Nicky. She’s something else.”

 

Valentine only chuckled. They continued in silence behind her, sidestepping the damage Rose and Hancock inflicted on the way in and taking out any new Triggermen with ease. They’d almost reached the exit when they paused outside the door into the lobby, hearing voices on the other side. Nick stepped up to the door, brow creased in concentration. As he listened to the voices, Rose wondered how it was that Nick’s oddly mechanical face could show so much emotion and expression. He pulled back with his mouth pursed.

 

“That’s Skinny on the other side. Sounds like he might be with that crazy girlfriend of his too. It won’t be an easy fight out of here.”

 

Rose shrugged, tapping her bat against the inside of her foot. “We’ve made it this far. Let’s just get this over with”

 

She smacked the release on the door without any warning and it slid upwards, revealing a large man Rose assumed was Skinny Malone. Beside him was a woman in a scrappy, shimmering purple dress and an ordinary bat clutched in bony fingers. She had a mean, pinched face, and Rose knew right away that there was a chance that they might not get through this quietly. The thought didn’t bother her much.

 

“Nicky, what’re you doing? You get this broad to come in here and take out all my guys?”

 

Skinny Malone had that old mob boss voice that reminded Rose of the ones in the movies before the war.

“No, that was all me,” she said before Nick could reply. “I can finish the job right now, too, if you decide not to step aside and let us walk.”

 

Fear danced across the expressions of Skinny’s few remaining goons that stood behind him.

 

The woman’s face somehow soured even more. “You gonna let this bitch talk to you like this, Skinny?”

 

“Darla, baby, I really don’t need this shit from you right now.” He shot her a look before turning back to them.

 

Hancock took a few steps forward, face full of false concern. “You gonna let him talk to _you_ like that, Darla?”

 

Rose bit back a grin. She was scary and strong--and that had served them well--but Hancock was clever. At his words, she could almost feel Darla’s anger shift away from them. Her face wrinkled up into a snarl.

 

“Y’know, if you’d listened to me and we’d offed that detective, we wouldn’t have this problem!”

 

Malone looked from Darla to Hancock in astonishment and fury, his eyes like those of a caged animal. In a sense, he was. Trapped between duking it out with those who’d wiped out the majority of his gang or dealing with the incessant wrath of his batshit lover.

 

“Get out,” he finally said, eyeing Rose and her companions ruefully. “Get the fuck out and don’t come back.”

 

Rose saluted him with her bloodied bat, ignoring the disgusted gasp that came from Darla. “Good choice.”

 

Darla and Skinny’s argument echoed through the subway as the three made their way out.

 

* * *

 

 

It was a little easier for Rose to recount her tale of woe to Nick and Ellie, but she still had to wipe away a few tears as she did so. Hancock stood behind her chair across from Nick with his hand on her shoulder and she appreciated the comfort. When she finished her story, Nick asked a lot of questions involving a lot of details she’d just let go. The conversation left her head hurting.

 

“Based on what you said, I think the man who killed your husband is a particularly skilled merc named Kellogg. Skilled enough to work for the Institute. But we’re in luck; I’ve been collecting intel on this guy for a while. He was in Diamond City not too long ago with a kid.”

 

Rose sat forward, eyes suddenly alert. “What if that’s Shaun?”

 

“Can’t really know for sure. Who knows how long you were frozen for after they took him? Either way, they’re not here anymore. One of the guards spotted Kellogg leaving late one night not long before I got caught up in that mess with Malone, and he never came back after that.  I managed to track him to this spot a ways west called Fort Hagen.”

 

“Then that’s where we’re going,” Hancock said, stepping forward and flicking the butt of his cigarette away. Nick nodded, tapping his thin metal fingers on his desk.

 

“No doubt about it. But you gotta be careful.” Nick looked directly at Rose. “I can tell you’ve got a lot of heart, and a lot of muscle to back it up, but this isn’t gonna be a handful of Triggermen again. Kellogg will have defenses straight out of the Institute. You seem like a good kid, Rose, and I want to see you and your boy make it out of this alive. And if you need anything, we’re here for you.”

 

Rose nodded and smiled, moved by the kindness and concern in Nick’s voice. “Thank you, Nick. That means a lot.”

 

They bid Nick and Ellie goodbye and stepped out into the night. They strolled through the alleys towards the market.

 

“So, you’re staying with me?”

 

Hancock raised his brow. “What? Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

 

Rose shrugged. The stadium lights glinted off of her glasses as she looked up at him. “Nick said it would be dangerous.”

 

“It’s gonna take more than a few Institute shitheads to get rid of me.”

 

“Good to know,” she told him with a smile. “Where can we crash around here? I’m exhausted.”

 

Hancock pointed her to the Dugout Inn. As they passed through the market, he cast a bitter glance up at the windows of the mayor’s office above the stands, but Rose didn’t catch it. When they got to the inn, he ignored the dirty looks shot his way as Rose dropped a handful of caps on the counter for rooms and a bottle of vodka. They were given two rooms across from each other, but they sat on the floor of Rose’s for a while, smoking and passing the bottle of vodka back and forth. Hancock saw that familiar wariness creep back into Rose’s expression. He wondered if this happened anytime she wasn’t on the move. He watched as she pressed the end of her cigarette into the concrete ground and drew little circles with the ash.

 

“Y’know, I know a guy. I think he could help us out at Fort Hagen.” Hancock handed the bottle to Rose. She ran the back of her hand across her numb lips before taking a pull.

 

“Yeah?”

 

He nodded. “Sniper. He’s a merc but he’s a good guy. And we gotta go back to Goodneighbor to get him.”

 

Rose stretched her arms above her head and stood. “Goodneighbor it is, then.”

 

She tossed her glasses onto the nightstand before falling back onto the bed. Hancock pushed himself up and resealed the vodka. He set it beside Rose’s boots. He picked up his pack and turned to tell her goodnight, but her eyes were already closed. Hancock smiled and flicked off the light.

 

* * *

 

  
  
Rose was skeptical, to say the least, when she found herself in the VIP room of the Third Rail meeting the sniper Hancock spoke so highly of on the way back to Goodneighbor. MacCready lay stretched across a couch with his hat pulled down over his eyes and a small collection of beer bottles on the floor beside him.  
  
"Mac."  
  
Hancock said his name from the doorway, but the man didn't stir. He crossed the room and bent down close to MacCready's head before giving Rose a sly grin.  
  
"MacCready!"  
  
He took a large step back as MacCready scrambled off of the couch, knocking over several of the beer bottles and somehow sending his hat across the room. Rose crossed her arms and laughed as MacCready fumed, looking like he wanted to charge Hancock but knew better.  
  
"What the fu-," he started, but shook his head. "What was that for, Hancock?"  
  
Hancock fell back into one of the chairs. "Just having some fun. Wipe that frown off your face. I got a job for you."  
  
The anger in MacCready's expression flickered. "What kind of job?"  
  
The ghoul gestured to Rose, who eyed MacCready with scrutiny. He was probably a couple years younger than her and had that same tall and lanky build as Hancock. She had to remind herself not to underestimate him, especially after seeing Hancock fight his way through the vault with her yesterday.  
  
"A tough job," Rose started, "but it pays well. Mr. Mayor here says you're a good shot with an eye for caps."  
  
MacCready narrowed his eyes. "I'm the best shot in the Commonwealth. You make a fair offer and I'm your man."  
  
"You don't even know the job yet," Rose said, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Does it matter?"  
  
That prompted another laugh from Rose. She and Hancock exchanged glances. He shrugged.  
  
"I guess not. How's 500 caps sound?"  
  
MacCready dropped the cigarette he'd fished from the pocket of his duster and looked up at her with wide eyes. He was a little mousy, but Rose thought he was kind of cute.  
  
"Good," she said, retrieving his hat and tossing it to him, "can you be ready to leave in ten?"


	6. Kept Woman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone enjoys!! Thank you all for continuing to read my self-indulgent garbage ❤️
> 
> Song: Kept Woman by Fleet Foxes

“Keep an eye out for anything valuable.”

Rose picked through a pile of junk in an old gun shop. She, Hancock, and MacCready had been taking their time getting to Fort Hagen--stopping anywhere that piqued Rose’s interest--and on the third afternoon of traveling settled in in Forest Grove Marsh for the rest of the night. It wasn’t too far out, and she wanted them to be well-rested when they had to fight Kellogg.

MacCready scoffed and tossed a broken hot plate in Rose’s direction. “That could mean any of this junk, coming from you. Have you looked in your pack before?”

“Everything has a price. How do you think I managed to throw 500 caps your way?” Rose caught the hot plate and dropped it in a small pile of other finds.

“Thought that was because of the bullet you put through Bobbi’s skull.”

She grinned. “You know, it really wouldn’t be too hard to take them back that same way.”

“I’d watch it, Mac. She’s smiling but she ain’t kidding.” Hancock sat back against one of the crumbling brick walls, knocking back a beer.

Traveling with Hancock and MacCready had been good for Rose. She was more relaxed and even teetering on being happy. After just a few days, they already felt like a solid team.

MacCready opened his mouth to retort but froze suddenly, cocking his head to the side. His voice dropped in volume.

“Did you hear that?”

Rose furrowed her brow. “Hear what?” She looked over at Hancock, who pushed himself up and crept towards them, trying to listen. They stood in silence when a scuffling noise came from above them. There was a quiet scramble for weapons they’d dropped before Rose started up the stairs with the other two behind her. The room was clear, but when she peered across a makeshift bridge leading out to the roof, Rose nearly fell backward.

“What the _fuck_ is that?”

She couldn’t hold herself together at the sight of the feral and her words came out as a disgusted scream. Its head jerked in her direction and it let out a gurgling growl. Rose raised her bat as it barreled towards her, but as the feral crossed the bridge a bullet from MacCready’s rifle sent it toppling off. When he and Hancock looked at Rose, now pressed against the wall, she was shaking.

“You… you’ve never seen a feral before?”

“Fucking, you tell me, MacCready!”

They didn’t have any chance to argue, as more ferals came out of the woodworks at the sound of MacCready’s gun. Rose snapped out of her frightened stupor and helped take out the lot of them. It was difficult work; it took quite a few hits to bring the ferals down. Rose quickly realized a feral that couldn’t walk was far less dangerous, and began to swing low to take out their legs. Hancock and MacCready finished the job with bullets through their rotting heads. As they took out the last few, Rose felt herself growing nauseous. A gash one of the ferals landed on her calf throbbed. She fell back against a counter and clutched her stomach with a groan. Hancock kneeled beside her, stimpak and bandages in hand.

“First big taste of radiation since you’ve been out and about, Vaultie?”

Rose grimaced as he pressed the needle into her leg. “Yeah.”

The wound began to close, albeit far more slowly than usual. Hancock wrapped the bandage around her calf with careful hands. MacCready kicked aside the bodies with a look of disgust and retrieved all their packs.

“Let’s move into one of these houses. It looks like it’s gonna rain and you need to rest, Rose.”

She opened her mouth to protest but Hancock shook his head. “He’s right. I know you’re a hardass but I’m not in the mood to clean up vomit. Just let your stomach settle for a while, okay?”

Rose rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. She knew hardly anything about radiation poisoning at any degree, and she definitely felt like she was going to get sick. Hancock helped her up and the three of them chose a boarded-up house on the dry side of town, as far away from the irradiated flood water as they could manage. MacCready kicked through the rotting wood blocking up the back door, and they found a relatively well-preserved house inside. The walls and the ceilings were well-intact and would be good shelter from the coming rain. Hancock led Rose to a sagging couch where she stretched out, one hand still pressed against her stomach. MacCready set a small can of purified water beside the couch and Rose gave him a grateful look. He dropped their packs alongside it but kept his own on his shoulder. She thought he looked paler than usual, but she didn’t mention it.

“I’ll go make dinner.” He disappeared back outside, leaving Rose and Hancock alone. She watched Hancock as he planted himself in what probably used to be a very comfortable armchair. He shook the dust off of a book that sat on the end table beside him.

Rose drank some of the water and cleared her throat. “What were those, Hancock?”

“Feral ghouls,” he said, thumbing through the pages of the book.

“Ghouls?”

Hancock nodded. “Ghouls. Lacking in the charm of yours truly because the radiation rotted their bodies and their brains.”

Rose studied him. They didn’t look like ghouls. They looked like zombies from the old horror movies, and they definitely acted like them.

“And yeah, it could happen.”

“What?” Rose noticed Hancock looked a little uncomfortable.

“It could happen to me. I could turn into one of them.”

She frowned. It finally clicked in Rose’s mind why the people in Diamond City didn’t like ghouls. She hadn’t even been wondering if him turning was a possibility, but Hancock had assumed. It said a lot about how things were. But it didn’t really make sense to her, because ghouls were humans too once. The right amount of radiation could do that to anyone, right?

Rose cleared her throat. “It could happen to me too, huh?”

Hancock looked up from his book, his eyes unreadable. “Yeah. Guess you’re right.”

Rose flashed him a of-course-I’m-right look and pulled a book of her own from her pack. Hancock watched her for a moment before going back to his own book. The smell of smoke soon trickled through the doorway, followed by that of Pork n’ Beans. MacCready was warming the cans they’d found in one of the houses they’d scavenged through this morning.

“Shoulda made you start that fire,” Hancock murmured, peering over at Rose. She shrugged and her face reddened slightly.

Their first night with MacCready, Hancock had learned she had no clue how to make a fire without a lighter or matches. The more time he spent with her, the more it set in that she really didn’t grow up in the wasteland. It was unusual; Rose was an adult and clearly very smart, but it felt like teaching a child every time he had to explain something that seemed to simple to him. Who didn’t know what ferals were? Or the Institute? Or how to start a simple fire? It was difficult to get used to.

They read in silence until MacCready brought in dinner. Rose sat up and ate slowly, feeling less nauseous than before but not wanting to overdo it. She stared at the sun, low in the sky through the slats of the boards on the windows. Rose thought the soft orange glow it cast in the living room was comforting.

“You feeling any better?”

She looked over at MacCready and nodded. “Yeah. My leg feels weird but it gets better by the minute. Thanks.”

“No problem,” MacCready said, setting his can of beans aside.

Rose finished her own food and watched him carefully. He took off his hat and ruffled his hair before leaning back on his hands. She was warming up to MacCready sooner than she expected, much more quickly than she had to Preston or Sturges or anyone back in Sanctuary. It wasn’t quite how she felt about Hancock--who she felt comfortable with almost immediately--but there was something about him she definitely liked.

“So you’re really not gonna ask?”

MacCready frowned. “Ask what?”

Hancock closed his book, answering him before Rose could. “About the job, kid.”

“Oh. Well, I mean, 500 caps is 500 caps. I figured you’d tell me what I needed to know when we got to Fort Hagen.”

Rose slid down onto the floor across from him, stretching her wounded leg out in front of her. She unlatched the Pip-Boy from her arm. After turning on Diamond City Radio, she set it down beside her.

“So you don’t wanna know?”

MacCready shrugged and lit a cigarette. “Doesn’t matter to me.”

“Seriously? For all you know, I could be sending you-”

“Look, I need the caps, boss. If you wanna tell me, tell me. Or don’t.”

His forehead creased slightly and he suddenly seemed older. It struck Rose that he reminded her of herself. He was worn around the edges in the same way she was; he was tired, but she could see in his eyes he was fighting for something. It made her sad somehow. Rose didn’t say anything for awhile, only the sound of old familiar songs filling the room. She watched MacCready’s cigarette burn down to the butt.

“We’re tracking down a merc. He works for the Institute.”

“Yeah?” MacCready pressed the remains of his cigarette into the floor. “Sounds like fun.”

“It will be.” The iciness in Rose’s voice jarred him. She laced her fingers together in her lap, face passive. “He has my son.”

He glanced over at Hancock, who nodded once but said nothing. MacCready swallowed and stared down at the floor.

Everything he raised an eyebrow about when it came to Rose made a little more sense now. MacCready understood. How could he not? If Duncan was stolen from him, he’d be the same way. It was hard enough just not being with him at all. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn’t written to Duncan before he left like he usually did when he had a job. He stood and dragged his pack over to the dining room table, where he fished out some yellowed sheets of paper and a stub of a pencil. Hancock and Rose watched him write before going back to their books. The only sounds were that of Rose’s Pip-Boy and the scratching of MacCready’s pencil.

After a while, Rose set her book aside and strapped her Pip-Boy back on her arm. She shook out her injured leg and shifted her weight onto it as she stood, finding the pain gone. “I’m gonna go for a walk. I didn’t get to finish looking through the gun store like I wanted to. You guys can come if you want.”

Hancock nodded and stood. “You coming, Mac?”

“Huh?” He looked up from the papers he’d scribbled away on and shook his head. “Oh, no. I’m good.”

MacCready went right back to writing, so Hancock and Rose left without another word. They wove through the bodies of the dead ferals and continued their previous search through the store. Rose managed to find a bit of ammo for each of their respective guns. She even picked up a nicer scope for her assault rifle, even though she was definitely gaining a preference for her bat. When she passed Hancock a handful of shotgun shells, he noticed the small pile of nails she’d found and pulled from the rotted furniture in the shop.

“You gonna build something?”

“Not exactly.” She ripped the top off of a display case and sat down, tugging at the screws embedded in it. Hancock chuckled when she didn’t elaborate.

He sat across from her as she worked away at the wood. “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Leg feels fine.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Rose yanked a screw free and didn’t speak for a minute. “I think so. I’m just worried. What… what if it’s not Shaun?”

Hancock rubbed his chin. “If it’s not him, Kellogg will probably still know where he is, right?”

“I guess so.” She set the lid aside and pulled her knees up to her chest. “I think I’m scared of it being Shaun, too.”

“Why?”

“Shit’s rough out here, Hancock.” She ran a hand through her wild hair. “I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, and I only know a fraction of what’s out there. The thought of raising my son in all this terrifies me. Especially without Nate.”

Everything fearsome about Rose had fallen away. She seemed smaller, softer, more vulnerable. This was the first time Hancock saw real fear in her eyes, and not just something like the angry shock that the ferals inflicted. A tear glinted in the light of her Pip-Boy under her eye but she swiped a hand under her glasses before it could fall far.

Hancock nodded. “Yeah. It is rough out there. But you’re making it better, you know?”

She looked up at him in question.

“You’ve been here just over a month, but think about what you’ve done, Rose. I haven’t seen you cower in a corner like all those other bastards out there. You saved all those people in Concord and you’re building up the Minutemen again, which is gonna do a lot of good for a lot of people. You saved Nicky. And you don’t take shit from anyone. No one’s ever stood up for me like you did in Diamond City.”

One corner of her lips upturned ever so slightly and she nodded. Hancock nudged her boot with his own and they locked eyes.

“I bet you’re a great mom. Wasteland or not. And I’ll be there for you. Someone has to help you make camp, right?”

Rose laughed. “How’d I get so lucky, finding you? And for free? MacCready cost me big time. I know it’s not my good looks.”

 _Only partly,_ Hancock thought. “I’ll send you the bill when we get back to Goodneighbor.”

She rolled her eyes and stood. She held out her hand to help Hancock up and--much to his surprise--Rose pulled him into a hug. He had to tell himself to breathe as her head rested against his chest.

“Thank you, Hancock. For everything.”

“Yeah… yeah. Thank you, too.”

Rose pulled back, smiling. “For what?”

“Ah, y’know,” he said with a shrug, “just… for being you.”

She blushed and shoved him gently. “Whatever.”

Hancock grinned. They finished picking through the entirety of the shop before heading back to the house. MacCready was laying out his sleeping bag as they stepped through the doorway. Rose handed him two worn ammo boxes.

“Thanks, boss.” He dropped them in his pack. “You want me to take first watch?”

Rose shook her head. “No, you two get some rest. I’ll do it.”

That sharp determination had already crept back into her expression on the walk back to the house. The two men decided not to argue. They settled into their respective spots and MacCready fell asleep almost immediately. Hancock followed shortly after, taking a hit of Jet and falling into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

 

Hancock awoke a few hours later to the sound of a man’s voice that wasn’t MacCready. He opened his eyes to find Rose sitting on the couch, eyes closed and tears cutting through the dirt on her cheeks. She was clutching her Pip-Boy to her chest. There were no other people around and he realized the voice came from her little personal computer.

_“...don't think Shaun and I need to tell you how great of a mother you are... but we're going to anyway. You are kind, and loving, and…”_

Laughter—baby’s laughter—interrupted the man.

_“...funny! Ha ha. That's right. And patient. So patient. Patience of a saint, my mom used to say._

_Look, these past few months, ever since we had Shaun… it’s been amazing. Beyond amazing. Who knew after five years it was possible to be even happier together? But even so, I know our best days are yet to come. Things seem to keep getting busier and busier around here lately, but we’ll get through just fine. Everything we do—especially everything you do—no matter how hard... we do it for our family._

_Now say goodbye, Shaun... Bye-bye? Say bye-bye?_

_Bye honey. We love you!”_

There was a pause.

_“I love you, Rose. So much.”_

The holotape cut off, and Hancock shut his eyes before Rose could see he was awake.


	7. The World Ender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay!!!! This one is a little dark!!!! Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Next chapter will be fun and cute and sweet and CHRISTMAS-Y because I need to lighten the mood for a bit and I'm very excited to write it.
> 
> Song: The World Ender by Lord Huron

_“If it isn't my old friend, the frozen TV dinner. Last time we met, you were cozying up to the peas and apple cobbler.”_

 

Rose jerked her head up. Her hands froze, hovering over the terminal keyboard.

 

_“Sorry your house has been a wreck for two hundred years. But I don't need a roommate. Leave.”_

 

The voice spoke over some sort of intercom, but Rose whipped around in search of its source anyway. Hancock finished wrapping the bandage around MacCready’s arm and they both watched her carefully. She snatched up her bat, which she’d driven the screws and nails through with a rock before they left for Fort Hagen that morning.

 

Rose was smart. She knew it, Hancock knew it, and, hell, even just from a few days, MacCready knew it. Getting into a terminal wasn’t usually a problem for her; Nate was an engineer so he taught her a lot when he was working on big projects at home. At the sound of Kellogg’s voice, though, Rose felt something inside of her crack. She’d almost finished getting in to open the door the terminal sat beside, but this wasn’t the time for playing with computers. No. The man who took her baby and killed her husband was here, taunting her. Her hands tightened around her bat, and she swung. The screen shattered and the body crumpled in on itself with a groan. She pulled at the door but it didn’t open, so she swung again. The door still wouldn’t give. Her bat clattered to the floor and she got a grip on the back of the terminal. A vein bulged in her neck as she ripped it from the wall. There was a loud click as the maglock failed.

 

Rose dropped the terminal and kicked open the door. “Let’s go.”

 

Hancock and MacCready followed her wordlessly. They tore through more synths as their descent into the fort continued.

 

_“Hmph. Never expected you to come knocking on my door. Gave you 50/50 odds of making it to Diamond City. After that? Figured the Commonwealth would chew you up like jerky.”_

 

Rose heaved a synth over her shoulder by its remaining arm and slammed it into the wall. She kept her lips pressed firmly shut to stop herself from screaming. She so desperately wanted to bury this man, and he was mocking her. It drove her crazy, but she tried not to let it distract her too much.

 

_“Look. You're pissed off. I get it. I do. But whatever you hope to accomplish in here? It is not going to go your way. You've got guts and determination, and that's admirable. But you are in over your head in ways you can't possibly comprehend.”_

 

Hancock barely missed a blast from a laser rifle and blew a hole in the robotic chest of another Gen One. MacCready nailed two synths coming up a stairwell with quick headshots. They smashed their way through the fort’s defenses, luckily not sustaining too many injuries. They were all running dangerously low on stimpaks. No one dared to suggest they stop and look for more.

 

_“It's not too late. Stop. Turn around and leave. You have that option. Not a lot of people can say that.”_

 

They finally reached what looked like a bedroom. It was neat--almost meticulously organized. There were weapons on every surface. Hancock and MacCready quickly rummaged through everything to restock, but Rose went straight to the terminal on the wall. It met the same fate as the one from earlier under her bat. Even after she tore it from its place, though, the door it previously sat beside would not move.

 

“Scared, you son of a bitch?” Her control was slipping. She muttered under her breath as she kicked at the door but it still didn’t budge. “You fucking should be.”

 

“Rose?” Hancock put a hand on her shoulder and she stopped attacking the door.

 

Her voice was tight. “I can’t get it open.”

 

He frowned, studying the door. “Maybe it--”

 

_“Okay, you made it. I'm just up ahead. My synths are standing down. Let's talk.”_

 

A loud click followed, unlocking the door in front of them. Hancock’s hand didn’t leave Rose’s shoulder, gripping it when she started forward.

 

“Hold on a sec. Do you need anything?” He gestured around the room.

 

She didn’t turn around. “No.”

 

“Rose, c’mon.”

 

“Hancock, I’m just--” she paused, remembering something, and reached for her pack. “Yeah, actually. There is something I need.”

 

She dug around inside and fished out the syringe of Psycho she’d found before and held it out to Hancock. “Can you help me? I hate needles.”

 

“Whoa, whoa. You sure about that?” MacCready crossed the room to join them and gave the drug a wary glance.

Rose looked between Hancock and MacCready, and somewhere deep down she appreciated the concern on their faces, but this wasn’t the time. Hancock registered that fact before she could speak. He took the Psycho from her hand and gestured for her to hold out her arm.

 

“Ain’t gonna be fun coming down off of this one.” He undid the bracer on her forearm and pushed up the sleeve of her vault suit, trying to keep his face neutral when her arm and an impressive array of tattoos were exposed.

 

MacCready frowned as Hancock pressed the needle into her arm, but didn’t say anything else. He didn’t really have a problem with chems, but Psycho could be scary. It didn’t really even seem like Rose needed it.

 

She grimaced and yanked her sleeve down as Hancock tossed the canister away. Bat back in hand, she turned and went through the now-open doorway before Hancock or MacCready could stop her.

 

* * *

 

 

Cold crept across Rose’s skin as the lights clicked on and she saw him standing near the center of the room.

 

_Kellogg._

 

He didn’t look any different from the first time she’d seen him. Same scar, same gear, same menacing glare. She swallowed and descended into the room, her eyes not leaving him despite the movement of the Gen Ones surrounding them. She felt Hancock and MacCready close behind her.

 

“And there she is. The most resilient woman in the Commonwealth.”

 

It took every ounce of strength Rose had to not knock the smug look off of his face right away.

 

“Where is my son?” Every word was sharp. She could feel her control slipping as the effects of the Psycho settled in.

 

Kellogg gave her a sad smile. “Right to it, huh? Well, Shaun’s safe. Maybe a little older than you expected, but he’s safe.”

 

“Give him to me, you son of a bitch!”

 

“He’s not here. I don’t have him anymore. But like I said, he’s safe. He’s home.”

 

Rose’s entire body shook. She’d come all this way, burned through all those synths, and he’d sat down here, mocking her, when he didn’t even have what she wanted.

 

_Not here. Not here. Not here._

 

Kellogg was just about the most deadly and experienced mercenary in the Commonwealth, but he barely managed to avoid her bat as she charged him. Rose roared in frustration as her swing flew through the empty space and Kellogg vanished into thin air.

 

The Gen Ones converged on the trio. Rose was yanked backward as sharp, metallic fingers dug into her shoulder, cutting through her vault suit and drawing blood. It threw her back into a desk and she dropped her bat. Gunfire rang out around her as MacCready and Hancock took on the other synths. She dodged a swing from the one that attacked her, and pushed off the desk to charge it with her shoulder ducked. They slammed into the wall. She heard its body crack beneath the force and it slid to the floor as she stepped back. Rose landed a strong kick to its head before it could get up, and she stomped down on its neck, sending its head skidding across the floor as it snapped off.

 

“MacCready!” Hancock’s voice made her turn just in time to see a synth lunge at MacCready, knocking his rifle from his grip. It clattered across the ground as the Gen One tackled him. Rose bounded across the room faster than she’d ever been capable, her pistol already free from her hip. The synth struck MacCready’s face and his nose exploded with blood. Rose realized they were both moving too much for a safe shot, so when it raised its arm to hit MacCready again, she dropped her gun and dove at them. Her hands found the strange inner-workings of the synth and she tore it off of MacCready. They rolled away from him, struggling against each other. A sharp pain tore across Rose’s right cheek as it clawed at her. Her glasses got knocked off and she felt hot blood spill down her face. She managed to get her leg up enough to kick the synth away, and it flew back into a large terminal. Her hands roamed frantically across the ground for her glasses, and as she pushed them back onto her face she saw the synth collapse mid-charge with a loud bang from MacCready’s rifle. She found his gaze and they exchanged a nod before another bang ensued and pain washed over MacCready’s face. He slapped a hand over the blooming red spot on his thigh and crumpled to the ground. Behind where he stood, Kellogg suddenly blinked into existence, pistol raised.

 

A new wave of fury washed over Rose as she pushed herself up and smeared the flowing blood across her cheek. She dodged a bullet from Kellogg and flung a chair at him before she made and beeline for her bat. Hancock unloaded the rest of his shotgun in Kellogg’s direction to give her more time. Two bullets found their home in his arm, but Kellogg barely reacted, alternating shots at Hancock and Rose. She ran at him, pushing through the pain as a bullet grazed her shoulder. He jumped aside and ducked as Rose raised her bat, but this time he was too slow. The swing into his chest knocked him backward and he felt the faintest trace of pain as the nails punctured his skin. She ripped it from his chest and swung again, again, again, until Kellogg managed to dodge the blow and lunge at her, his shoulder aimed low to hit her in the gut. They both fell to the ground, and struggled until Rose was splayed on her back with Kellogg’s knee pressed into her chest. His torso was ripped apart, all blood and gore and shredded skin. Rose thrashed, but couldn’t shake him off of her.

 

“Gotta admit, I didn’t think some white-picket fence mom would ever give me this much trouble. I’m impressed.”

 

“ _Fuck. Y-_ ”

 

Kellogg cut her off with a quick jab to her mouth. Rose’s vision faltered for a moment and blood spilled from her now-busted lip.

 

“You shoulda just left, kid. Shaun’s safe, and you coulda lived. But I-”

 

He was suddenly knocked off of Rose, and through her blurred vision, she saw Hancock leap over her and ram the butt of his shotgun into Kellogg’s nose. Rose stood, picking up her bat with shaky hands. She moved beside Hancock with deliberate steps, and put a hand on his arm before he could hit Kellogg—who was now sprawled on the ground with a bloody face to match his ruined chest—with his gun again.

 

Hancock swallowed and backed up when he saw the look on Rose’s face. It was sober, bored almost, made even more terrifying by the ugly fresh cut under her right eye and her swollen lip, both dripping with fresh blood. Kellogg looked up at her, and for the first time, there was real fear in his eyes.

 

“You should’ve just killed me, _kid_ ,” she mocked him, her voice low and dark. “Shoulda killed me when you killed Nate.”

 

He gave her one last wide red smile and a weak salute before Rose brought the bat down on his head. She yanked it free, only to bring it down again on his chest, his arms, legs, anywhere she could land it. Hancock helped MacCready up and they watched her in silence as she reduced the dead mercenary to a pile of bloody mush. She was sobbing now, yelling choked curses as the rush of tears mixed with the blood that caked her face. With one final blow to his head, she heard his skull crack. Rose stumbled back from the gory mess and tried to lean on her bat, but it slipped from her grip and she toppled over.

 

Everything went black.

 

* * *

 

 

"You know, I don't think I'll ever understand art like this," a voice said from behind Rose.

 

She turned to find a tall man in a neatly-pressed service uniform staring intently up at the canvas she'd been studying herself. It was some strange abstract piece, put up especially for tonight's charity gala for the military. The man glanced over at her and raised the champagne flute he clutched in his hand in her direction.

 

"Sorry. I would've brought you one too, but..." He gestured down at the sling that held his left arm. Rose lifted her own glass, pinched between black gloved fingers, to his line of sight.

 

"No need.” She smiled before turning back to the painting. "And don't worry. I've been painting for years and don't really understand it either."

 

He stepped up to stand beside her.

 

"You're a painter?" Rose was struck by how impressed he sounded. Most people just laughed or asked what she did for a real job.

 

"Yeah," she said, tapping her fingers lightly against her glass. "That's why I'm here."

 

She looked up to find him staring down at her with wide eyes. They were a soft, grayish blue, almost like a cloudy sky, and framed by heavy, dark blonde brows. There were two jagged scars stretching across his cheek and under his left eye that would’ve made anyone look intimidating, but there was something about the warmth in his gaze that kept them from doing so.

 

"You alright there, soldier?" Rose asked with a laugh as he failed to say anything.

 

He nodded, still looking impressed. "Yeah, sorry. That's just... wow."

 

A blush crept across Rose's face and she looked down at her shoes as she murmured a thank you.

 

“I’m also not exactly a soldier, by the way.”

 

“Oh?” Rose turned to look at him again. She found herself not really wanting to look away.

 

“Yeah. Still work for the military, but I’m an engineer. One that was unfortunately in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

 

She raised her eyebrows. “Wow. My turn to be impressed. I’m sorry about your injury, though.”

 

“It pays the bills,” he said with a shrug. Rose laughed again and he grinned. “And thanks. It hasn’t been so bad, until tonight. I saw this absolutely stunning woman and I couldn’t even bring her a drink.”

 

That earned an even bigger laugh from Rose, but when she spoke her voice was shy. “You’re too kind, Mr. Engineer. I’m Rose.”

 

“Nate,” he said, grinning even wider than before. “And, my apologies if I’m getting ahead of myself here, but what do you say you and I make a deal?”

 

Rose took a sip of her champagne, giving him an appraising look. Nate gazed right back, not even bothering to suppress the boyish eagerness that overtook his mind and his expression. He’d noticed her as soon as she walked in, standing out among the sea of copy-and-paste pastels in a striking black dress. Tattoos peeked out between the sleeves of her dress and her gloves. Her hair--neatly done when she first arrived--was now rebelling against whatever she’d used on it, with little ringlets growing wilder by the hour. The bright red that left marks on her glass still seemed flawless on her lips. Nate was sure he’d never seen anyone more beautiful, and he had no doubt that he’d never see someone so beautiful ever again.

 

“What kind of deal?”

 

“You show me your work, and then I’ll show you some of mine. It’s here tonight too. Though I’m sure it’s not nearly impressive as yours.”

 

Rose tucked a loose curl behind her ear. She then looped her arm through his, resting her hand on the crook of his elbow. “Okay. Deal.”

 

They hardly left each other’s side for the rest of the night.  

 

* * *

 

 

Rose awoke slowly, and then all at once. Her eyes flew open and she found herself staring up at the clear night sky, the warm crackle of a fire beside her. Her face throbbed. A hand caught her shoulder as she tried to sit up.

 

“Take it easy, boss.” MacCready eyed her warily with a sad smile. He leaned back on the side of the wall behind them, bandaged leg stretched out in front of him. “You were out for a while.”

 

She eased herself up, resting on her elbows. “Where are we?”

 

“Roof of Fort Hagen. Hancock figured you wouldn’t want to wake up inside.”

 

“Where is-” she started, but MacCready nodded to her left before she could finish. Hancock was sprawled out beside her, hat over his face and without his jacket. Rose looked down to find herself laying on it. She ran a hand lightly over the worn fabric.

 

“Hey, Rose?”

 

She looked up at MacCready, whose eyes glimmered in the fire. “Yeah?”

 

“I…” he paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. That was rough.”

 

Rose held his gaze.

 

“Yeah. It was.” She sighed, and then reached out to rest her hand atop his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you. For being here with us. With me.”

 

He smiled. “Yeah. Glad I met you two.”

 

“Me too.” Rose sat up and pulled her knees up to her chest. “You can go to sleep, Mac.”

 

“Nah, Rose, you should-“

 

She shook her head. “I’m not tired.”

 

He searched her eyes for a moment, but then MacCready begrudgingly laid down, his back to her, and fell quickly asleep.

 

Rose wriggled Hancock’s coat out from under her and put it on backward, slipping her arms into the sleeves and pulling it in close to her chest. She watched the pile of sticks the men had collected burn down to glowing embers, waiting for herself to cry, scream, break something, anything. But she just felt a weird sort of numb emptiness, instead of the rage that consumed her earlier that she thought would never fade. She’d killed Kellogg. She’d finally killed the man that took away what she loved most. And she’d done it before she could find out where Shaun was. He said Shaun was safe, and something inside her trusted him on that, but she was still mentally kicking herself for being so rash. The Psycho certainly hadn’t helped her impulsiveness, but Rose tried not to regret it too much. Kellogg probably could’ve killed her if she hadn’t taken it. It just cost her more than she expected.

 

“You’re thinking too hard, Vaultie.”

 

Rose jumped in slight alarm and turned to her left. “What?”

 

“Thinking too hard.” Hancock pushed himself up and slid his hat back on top of his head with a smirk. “It woke me up.”

 

She rolled her eyes and looked away. Her voice was flat. “I’ll try to dial it back.”

 

“Hey.” He scooted closer to her, waiting for her to look back. “Just messing with you.”

 

Rose bit the inside of her cheek and nodded, but didn’t say anything. She felt like if she opened her mouth again, too much would come tumbling out. She found herself wringing the cuffs of his coat in her hands and pulled it off of herself to hold it out to him. Hancock shook his head.

“Nah, that’s okay. Looks better on you anyway.”

 

She gave him a small smile and draped the jacket over herself like a blanket before turning back to the remains of the fire.

 

It hit Rose, suddenly, how unbelievably grateful she was for Hancock. He was the first person she’d met that made her feel like her old self again. And then he’d just up and joined her when she asked, leaving his town behind. Finding and fighting Kellogg was one of the most difficult things she’d ever done, and she wasn’t sure she would’ve made it through without him. If there was anyone she could talk to here, it was him.

 

“I feel like…” she paused, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose with the back of her hand, “I feel like I did what I was supposed to. For Nate, I mean. It doesn’t hurt so much anymore, knowing that he’s gone. Is that… is that weird?”

 

She turned to look at him as he shrugged. “No. Don’t think so. You avenged someone you love. It’s closure.”

 

He took out a little tin and fished out a pair of Mentats. He placed them on his tongue and nudged the dying embers with the tip of his boot.

 

“Shit was probably a little different back in the day too, but like you said before, there’s not much time to mourn out here.” He tossed the tin back and forth between his hands. “You did what you could for Nate. I think you know that, deep down. And now you know you gotta find your son, cause he’s still out there. You can still get him back.”

 

Rose closed the small gap between them and rested her head against Hancock’s shoulder.

 

“You remind me of Nate sometimes. You always know what to say.”

 

Hancock blinked, not entirely sure how to respond to her position or her compliment.

 

“Sorry,” Rose said quickly. “I guess that’s kind of weird.”

 

“Nah,” he made himself say finally, and slowly slid his arm around her, ready to recoil if she backed away. But she just settled into him more closely. “I get it.”

 

She let out a short, light laugh and smiled. “Yeah. You always do.”

 

The sat huddled together quietly, only the sounds of far-off gunfire and MacCready’s soft snoring to be heard. The last of the fire’s light died out as the sky began to lighten, gradually washing the Commonwealth in soft pink light. Hancock felt Rose’s breathing steady, and looked down to find her fast asleep.


	8. Perfect Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas (and Hanukkah and Kwanza and anything else you celebrate this holiday season)!!
> 
> If anyone would be interested in possibly beta-ing this story (and possibly more, if you're interested), shoot me a message (on my tumblr is fine: joshhutchersonscat)! I would really love some help.
> 
> Song: Perfect Time - Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros

Hancock never really had a problem with Christmas. He was always a little more generous with sharing his stash when the season came around and then he’d drink the night away with his citizens at the Rail. He never did Goodneighbor up with lights or decor like the goons over in Diamond City did, but no one ever complained.

 

Until now.

 

“What do you _mean_ you don’t decorate? It’s Christmas!”

 

Rose looked as though Hancock slapped her when he told her they didn’t do too much for Christmas. She’d lept up from the couch in his office and stared down at him with her hands on her wide hips. Hancock and Rose had been laying around all morning, reading books and enjoying the peace. This was one of the first days they’d gotten a break since returning to Goodneighbor. They’d been spending a good while with Doctor Amari at the Memory Den, dissecting what turned out to be a cybernetic brain augmenter that MacCready had wisely picked up from Kellogg’s gory remains when Hancock carried Rose out of Fort Hagen. After a while--and after a little help from Nick Valentine--they found out from the little bit of brain that Shaun was in the Institute and that travel to and from the Institute was done by teleport. The problem was, though, that it meant going into the Glowing Sea to find the rogue scientist who was their key to devising a way to get in. Rose took it better than everyone--even herself--expected. Afterwards, she decided she wanted to stay in Goodneighbor for a while longer to rest and so they could come up with a game plan. Hancock and MacCready didn’t protest.

 

“I mean,” Hancock said, shutting his book, “that we just don’t. It takes manpower and everyone around here is always too blitzed to appreciate something like that anyway.”

 

Rose frowned, her expression all the more menacing with the newest scar under her eye. “Nuh-uh, no way. Shitty excuse.”

 

“C’mon, Rose, I can’t just pull all my guys off the Watch and make ‘em hang lights and shit.”

 

“Okay, then we can do it.” She smiled as Hancock threw his head back and groaned. She sat back down on the couch, facing him, and nudged his shoulder. “C’mon, Hancock. It’s not gonna hurt anyone.”

 

He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “You’re not gonna let this go, huh?”

 

“You tell me.” Her grin was a wicked thing. Hancock sighed.

 

“Fine.”

 

Mostly against his will, Hancock spent the next couple days with Rose rounding up anything remotely Christmasy that they could decorate Goodneighbor with. Luckily, a number of boxes in the Third Rail and in the attic of the State House had strings of lights that had sat for years in disuse. Unenthusiastic as he was, Hancock softened up a little when he saw how excited Rose was. She’d been better than she was before they found Kellogg, but most of the time she was still more somber than he liked to see her be.

 

They spent an entire afternoon hanging lights wherever they could reach, and even fished MacCready out of the Rail to help too. Hancock watched from the street as Rose strung lights along the balcony of the State House.

 

“Reminds me of when we met.” Rose grinned down at him, and then raised her fist in the air, her voice dropping into one that was low and gravelly. “Of the people, for the people!”

 

Hancock chuckled and shook his head. “Had to show off to impress my new guest. It worked, huh?”

 

Rose shrugged and stuck her hands in the pockets of her overalls that she’d recently gotten from Daisy. Her vault suit was dropped in a barrel of fire shortly after they returned to Goodneighbor. Hancock couldn’t help but miss how snug the suit was sometimes, but her new ensemble looked good on her. Tank top, dark overalls, and sometimes a bomber jacket when she got cold. The outfit let her show off all the tattoos that decorated her arms and upper body. Hancock had to remind himself not to stare too hard when she wasn’t wearing her jacket.

 

“I guess so.”

 

Hancock shot her a look and she laughed. They finished with the lights as night began to fall, and Rose couldn’t hide her amazement when they all started to glow brighter in the darkness. Goodneighbor had a pretty array of lights as it was, but the newly hung string lights did something special that she couldn’t quite describe. She stared up at her work in awe and looped her arms through Hancock’s and MacCready’s, who stood on either side of her, and pulled them close.

 

MacCready smiled. “You did, good Rose. This town hasn’t felt this homey for a long as I can remember.”

 

“Yeah?” She looked up at them both, a girlish grin stretched across her face. The feeling was little and brief, but she was really, genuinely happy.

 

Hancock took in everything, surprised at how much he liked it. MacCready was right; Goodneighbor was home, but it’d never really had that warm feeling of home. Leave it to Rose to brighten up his world even more.

 

“Yeah.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Wait! We can’t go yet. Presents!”

 

MacCready, Hancock, and Nick paused at the top of the staircase in the Old State House. They were all about to head down to the Rail for Goodneighbor’s little Christmas party. Rose gestured to them to come back into Hancock’s office, her pack in hand.

 

“Ah, Rose, you didn’t have to-”

 

“I don’t wanna hear it, Mac,” she said, pulling a surprisingly clean trench coat from her bag. She thrust it towards Nick with a smile. “For you.”

 

Nick’s strange eyes widened, and he immediately shrugged off his old coat. The new one only had one small rip and it fit him perfectly. “This is great, Rose. Thank you.”

 

She turned back to MacCready and handed him a long scope in near-perfect condition. The lens on his old one cracked when they were at Fort Hagen, and she could tell he’d been missing it. It took a bit of bargaining but KL-E-0 gave her a good deal. He took it and grinned before pulling her into a tight hug. Rose was surprised but returned it enthusiastically.

 

“Thanks, boss. You’re too good to me.”

 

Rose turned to Hancock, her hand still tucked in her bag. “This isn’t really, um, useful, or anything. But I want you to have it.”

 

She pulled out the book she always carried with her. It was a surprisingly well-preserved, deep red leather-bound book with the title scrawled across the front in neat gold letters. _Dracula_. It was one of Rose’s favorite books. She always kept a book tucked in the diaper bag they carried for Shaun back before the war, which she grabbed when they evacuated to the vault. It was near Halloween, so that’s what she’d been reading at the time. The book and all the baby stuff was still in a storage locker when she came out of cryostasis. It was one of the only things she still had from before.

 

Hancock took the book from her hands gently, as though it could break at any moment. He shook his head in disbelief. “Rose, I-”

 

“Don’t you dare try to give it back.” The look in her eyes was fierce. Hancock couldn’t help but smile.

 

“Yes ma'am.”

 

Rose’s expression softened and she looked around at the three men with a shy smile.  “I know it’s not much, but I’m really grateful for you three. You’ve done a lot for me. And… for my son, too. I can’t thank you enough for that. I don’t know where I’d be without you guys.”

 

Nick reached out and ruffled her curly hair with his metal hand. “You’re too sweet, kid. You’ve done a lot for us, too. Hell, you saved me before you even knew who I was. Happy to help, whenever you need.”

 

Rose took Nick’s arm and pulled him into a hug. She held out her free arm and gestured for MacCready and Hancock, who wrapped their arms around her and Nick gratefully. When they stepped back from each other, Rose was grinning.

 

“Alright, I’m done with the mushy shit. Let’s go get drunk.”

 

* * *

 

 

Rose’s Christmas decor sparked something in Goodneighbor. It seemed like the whole town--and then some--was packed into the Third Rail that night, drinking, playing cards, and singing along to the Christmas songs Magnolia sang or that Travis played on Diamond City Radio. It was strangely warm and cheerful for Goodneighbor, but no one was complaining.

 

Rose sat at a large table with Hancock and MacCready on either side of her. They’d just finished playing poker with Nick, Fahrenheit, Daisy, and some drifter who--much to Rose’s amusement--was wearing sunglasses. Hancock was beaming, a large pile of caps, a bottle of whiskey, and a few packages of Fancy Lads Snack Cakes resting in front of him. MacCready was fuming, just five caps remaining in his pile.

 

“Lighten up, Mac. You’ll learn.” Hancock swept his caps into a small sack and cracked open the whiskey. Rose snatched the bottle from his grip and took a pull before he could.  

 

“Whatever,” MacCready grumbled, pocketing his caps.

 

Nick chuckled. “Always be careful what you bet when you’re playing with Hancock. Bastard always wins.”

 

“Only because he learned from the best.” Daisy winked and took a swig of her beer. “So, Rose, what have you all been up to? Holing up in the Memory Den all the time. Too much of that place is bad for you.”

 

Rose pursed her lips, pausing before she took a bite of the snack cake Hancock gave her. “Well, it’s kind of...complicated. We just had a lot of stuff to figure out, and Doctor Amari was a big help. Long story short, I have to go into the Glowing Sea.”

 

“Jesus, what the hell for?”

 

“I…” Rose swallowed and shrugged. “I can’t really talk about it. But I gotta go.”

 

Daisy shook her head and lit a cigarette. “You’ll need a lot to get you through that trip, kid. That’s no joke.”

 

Rose pressed two fingers to her temple and nodded. She’d been distracting herself from it the past week or so, but she couldn’t help but let the thought rattle around her head. Stimpaks, Rad-X, RadAway, a hazmat suit, a _backup_ hazmat suit, and some new, heavy-duty weaponry. And that just felt like the basics. She didn’t even want to think about how many caps she’d need. Hancock took her hand under the table and she clutched at it gratefully.

 

MacCready nudged her, and gave her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, we know, Daisy. But we can think about it tomorrow. It’s Christmas.”

 

 _We._ Rose realized she hadn’t told them she wanted to--that she _had_ to--go alone. She shook her head to clear it. Another time.

 

Daisy ashed her cigarette. “Fair enough. But I do wanna hear about the little trip you three took. Tired of hearing all the rumors of who--or what--took out that Institute merc. It _was_ you, wasn’t it?”

 

Rose nodded, and she, Hancock, and MacCready took turns recounting their trip for everyone at the table. The two men stole glances at Rose as she spoke, wary of how talking about it again might affect her. Even when Doctor Amari asked, Rose hardly went into detail. This was the first time she’d talked about it since. Her hand gripped Hancock’s a little more tightly whenever she spoke, but her voice was steady, even when she got to retelling how she killed Kellogg. Everyone at the table listened with interest, but the stranger seemed to be doing so more intently. Rose caught onto this early on.

 

“So,” she piped up after a moment of silence after they finished their story, directing her words to the drifter in sunglasses, and took another drink from Hancock’s whiskey, “I don’t think I caught your name.”

 

The man adjusted his hat and smiled, somewhat awkwardly. “Craig.”

 

Out of the corner of her eye, Rose saw Hancock narrow his gaze. It wasn’t suspicious, just genuinely confused. “You new around here? You look familiar.”

 

“Yeah, just passing through. On my way up to Bunker Hill to meet some traders.”

 

Hancock nodded. “Well, hope Goodneighbor’s treating you well. You picked a good night to stop here.”

 

“It’s great,” Craig said, tapping his fingers on the table. “Best Christmas I’ve had in awhile.”

 

MacCready raised his beer and swung an arm around Rose’s shoulders. “Cheers to that.”

 

“Cheers to Rose, for making it happen,” Nick added. Everyone at the table raised their drinks in her direction and she blushed. She realized she was holding Hancock’s hand in what must’ve been a vice grip and quickly let go.

 

“Thanks, guys. Merry Christmas.”

 

They all stayed at that table, swapping stories and laughing louder with every drink. Nick, of course still perfectly sober, watched them all with amusement. Another game of poker ensued after a couple hours, again ending with a smug Hancock and a furious MacCready. He relocated to his old couch in the VIP room, flopping down with a dramatic groan.

 

“Such a baby,” Rose said, licking snack cake frosting from her fingers. Hancock stared, not even bothering to look away when she gave him a sideways glance. “What?”

 

He stood, and her eyes followed him as she finished off the last of her beer.

 

“C’mere.” He held out his hand with a warm smile. She cocked her head to the side with that smirk that drove him wild.  
  
“ _What_ ?”   
  
He nodded towards the center of the room. “Dance with me.”   
  
She hesitated for a beat, but then placed her hand in his. Hancock pulled Rose into him and put one hand on her waist. She rested her free hand on his shoulder and they swayed to the soft hum of a Nat King Cole Christmas song. He stared down at her but she wouldn’t quite meet his eye, keeping her gaze level with his chest.   
  
“Everything okay?”   
  
“Yes.” She slid her hand from his and wrapped both arms around his neck, pulling herself closer to him. Her fingers could just barely reach each other. “I... this is nice.”   
  
His other hand found her hip. “Yeah?”   
  
She looked up at him with a small smile. There was a glint of color in her glasses from the Christmas lights strung along the walls.   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
Hancock swallowed. Every time she smiled at him it felt like he was seeing her for the first time. No one he’d ever met quite had the effect on him that Rose did, and it was maddening. He’d been trying to figure it out since they met, but he couldn’t pinpoint the cause. It was just her. Rose. Everything about her enthralled him. It didn’t help that it sometimes seemed like she felt something too. Hancock was worried that it was still too soon to push for something more than what they had, with Nate not having been gone so long. Things seemed a lot better since she’d unleashed hell on Kellogg, though. But he just couldn’t be sure.   
  
“Hancock?”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“Are _you_ okay?”   
  
He looked down at her with a crooked smile. “I’m always okay when I’m with you, Vaultie.”   
  
She bit her lip and laid her forehead on his chest, hiding her face. They were quiet for a while, enjoying music and the little bursts of laughter from around the bar.

 

“Y’know, I think that was the best gift anyone’s ever given me.”

 

It took a moment for her to respond with muffled words. “It’s just a book.”

 

“Bullshit,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s something that matters a lot to you and you’re cracked up enough to give it to _me_.”

 

She looked up, surprised to find his expression serious. She frowned. “I’m not cracked up.”

 

“Rose-”

 

“It does matter a lot to me.” Her voice dropped, barely audible. “And _you_ matter a lot to me. That’s why I gave it to you.”

 

Heat rose in Hancock’s cheeks. He was almost positive his smooth-skinned self would’ve been blushing. “Are you sure-”

 

“Hancock, if you try to give me the book back, I’m gonna beat you with it.”

 

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, jeez. No violence necessary. Sorry I didn’t get you anything, though. I kinda feel like an asshole.”

 

She shook her head. “You’ve done enough for me.”

 

“You’ve done a lot for me too, Rose. It’s not about that.”

 

“What? I haven’t… I haven’t really done anything for you.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “C’mon now. Bobbi? That guy in Diamond City? Hell, even before we went there, you made sure I was okay going after I told you about how they were with ghouls. Plus, since we’ve been traveling together, I haven’t got hit bad once.That’s no coincidence. I see how you fight.”

 

Rose pressed her lips together and looked away. He wasn’t wrong. She’d definitely taken to taking the brunt of the damage in combat and--be it consciously or unconsciously--protected Hancock in turn. She wasn’t completely sure why, at first, but as time went on, she realized she grew to care a lot about him pretty quickly, and wanted to keep the person she was closest to safe. Even if it meant her getting hurt more often.

 

“That’s not… I don’t-”

 

Hancock tucked a finger under her chin and gently turned her head up to face him. “You do. You keep… doing stuff no one’s ever done for me. Or making me feel ways no one’s ever made me feel. So, cut that bullshit. You make me feel like I’m something special.”

 

Her lip quivered and her voice was even lower now. “You are.”  
  
Before he could blink Rose pulled him down into her, pressing her lips into his.   
  
Hancock had kissed a lot of people. A _lot_ . Men, women, ghouls, everything in between. But this wasn’t like any kiss he’d had before. She was so warm. Her lips were soft, too. Softer than he could’ve imagined. They tasted like the whiskey and sugar. His fingers curled more tightly into her waist, and he felt dizzy as she pulled slowly away.   
  
“Hancock?” Rose swallowed. He looked shocked, and she felt the anxiety rise in her throat.   
  
But then Hancock made a sort of choked sound, his hands cupping her face and pulling her back into a kiss. Rose gripped his shoulder as she teetered on tiptoe. He slid his hands back to entangle them in her hair, and he tilted her head up ever so slightly to deepen the kiss. When her tongue slipped just past her lips to meet his, there was a deep rumble in his throat that sent a jolt through Rose.

 

 _God._ She hadn’t let herself acknowledge how much she wanted this. It’s a while before he pulled back, both it felt too soon to both of them. It took a second for it to click that they were in the middle of the Third Rail. Rose felt eyes on her from all sides and her face flushed. Hancock was grinning.

 

“Jesus fuck,” Fahrenheit muttered from a nearby table, but when Rose looked over at her she winked and gave Rose a smile.

 

It didn’t take long for the rest of the bar to get back to their business. Rose fixed the collar of Hancock’s jacket and looked up to find him still grinning.

 

“Nothin’ to say?”

 

Rose smiled, her tongue between her teeth. “You’re usually the smooth talker.”

 

“Fair.” Hancock ran his thumb along her jaw. She looked up at him with the most loving gaze he’d ever gotten. It warmed him all the way down to his toes. “Merry Christmas, Rose.”

 

“Merry Christmas, Hancock.”

 

She grabbed his collar, pulling him back into a kiss. To hell with everyone else in the room.


	9. Home By Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY was able to (sort of) finish this chapter up. It isn't my favorite but I think getting it out is what I needed to do lol. More to come shortly (or at least in less than three months..)! Also, here's the link to the commission I had done of Rose, Hancock, and MacCready!
> 
> http://joshhutchersonscat.tumblr.com/post/171391551009/raynersjournal-flat-colour-for
> 
> Song: Home By Now by Bombay Bicycle Club

“Holy shit.”

 

Even before they crossed the bridge into Sanctuary Hills, Hancock knew that it wasn’t like any of the other smaller settlements in the Commonwealth. It was thriving. It looked about as clean as anything in the wasteland could look, and a lot of the houses looked well-repaired. People wandered around, some carrying guns, others armfuls of scrap or tools. One visibly perked up when he saw the trio entering the settlement and starting jogging towards them.

 

“General!”

 

Rose pushed her hair back and smiled. “Preston.”

 

He gave her a wide grin in return, and turned to Hancock and MacCready with his hand held out. “Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen. You guys friends of Rose’s?”

 

“Something like that,” Hancock said, and was the first to shake his hand. “Good to meet you, Preston.”

 

Preston shook MacCready’s hand before looking back at Rose, cocking his head with an odd smile. “If you don’t mind me saying, General, you’re looking well.”

 

“That so?” Rose’s hand immediately went up to touch one of the two scars she’d gained on her face since she’d last seen Preston.

 

He shook his head. “Nah, not that. I just mean you, in general. You look more…”

 

Preston paused, unsure of what to say. The Rose he’d gotten to know a few months before was closed off and sharp-tongued, even though he knew she didn’t mean to be. He wouldn’t say she looked cheerful, but that firmly-set frown she always wore while she’d been in Sanctuary seemed to have softened.

 

“Well, anyway, you look like you’re doing better.” He gestured back to the settlement. “Can I show you around? I think you’ll be impressed what the settlers have gotten done around here since you left.”

 

Rose, Hancock, and MacCready followed Preston over the remainder of the bridge and into Sanctuary. He’d been right; she was impressed. There were little gardens sprinkled between the houses, almost all of which had been fixed up or scrapped completely to make way for new shacks. There were more traders than there’d been when she left, and it looked like Sturges finished putting together at least two more generators and water purifiers a piece.

 

It didn’t take long for her eyes to land on a little blue house near the center of the settlement. Busted-up furniture could be seen through its broken windows, and unlike any of the other homes in Sanctuary, it had remained untouched. Rose asked Preston to make sure it was left alone, and she was grateful he’d kept his promise. She felt Hancock and MacCready’s eyes on her as her pace slowed when they passed the house, so she sped up and tried to look interested in Preston’s commentary. They veered off towards the yellow house across the street, where they met up with Sturges. After greeting them, he laid out an armful of blueprints that Rose immediately hunched over, and they fell into a deep discussion. After about ten minutes, Hancock cleared his throat and Rose looked up, wide-eyed.

 

“Oh. Sorry,” she said, sticking the pencil behind her ear that she’d used to edit Sturges’s work. She turned to Preston. “Is there somewhere they can get food?”

 

“Sure, yeah. I’ll show them where.”

 

Rose smiled. “Great, thanks. I’ll come find you guys in just a little bit, okay?”

 

Hancock and MacCready followed Preston to another one of the houses where there was a bar and functioning kitchen. Some of the settlers sat around the beat-up tables or leaned up against the outside walls of the house with plates of food, all of which looked pretty appetizing. As good or better than what you could get in a place like Diamond City or Bunker Hill, for sure. The three of them ordered some food from the counter and sat at one of the empty tables.

 

MacCready cut into his brahmin steak and looked toward Preston. “So Rose helped start all this?”

 

He nodded and swallowed a bite of food. “Yeah. She found us in Concord and stayed up here for a few weeks. Worked like a damn machine. Not much of a farmer or anything, but she cranked out blueprints for turrets and generators with Sturges more quickly than he could handle. And once she scrapped an entire one of these old houses on her own. It was kinda scary.”

 

“Not too surprising,” Hancock said with a chuckle.

 

“Yeah. She wasn’t much of a talker, except for the night before she left. She told me and Sturges she lost her son. It finally made sense why she was so distant.” He looked at Hancock and MacCready, waiting for more answers, but neither did anything more than nod. They both knew that Rose would tell him herself if he needed to know.

 

“But,” Preston continued, “she seems better now.” It was more of a question than a statement.

 

Hancock shrugged. “There’s good days and bad days. But yeah, I think she’s getting better.”

 

They exchanged only small talk after that, politely getting to know each other until Rose appeared in the doorway, her hair pulled back into a messy bun that left a lot of loose curls sticking out wildly. She got herself a plate and wedged a chair between Hancock and MacCready.

 

“So I think we’ve got something laid out to make a bigger generator. Sturges did a pretty solid job using the schematics I left him of the smaller ones and I only had to make a few small adjustments to the blueprints. We could probably start working on it right away.”

 

Preston blinked. “Really? Wow. That’s… that’s great, General.”

 

“Just gotta make sure we have all the stuff,” she said before scooping up a bite of mac and cheese. She chewed slowly, eyeing Preston, who just stared at her. “Is something wrong?”

 

He finished off the rest of his beer. “No ma’am. You just never talked quite this much before. Or… smiled.”

 

Rose bit her lip and set down her spoon, all the guilt from before hitting her right in the chest. She knew what Preston said was true before he’d even spoken. Friendliness hadn’t ever really been Rose’s strong suit, and became even less so in the wasteland. Especially early on.

 

“Yeah. I’m, um, sorry about that. It didn’t have anything to do with you.”

 

He shrugged. “It’s alright. I know. Just glad you’re doing better.”

 

Rose spent the remainder of her meal explaining to Preston what they needed to scrape up to get the generators together. He said he figured they could get everything within a few days and start construction by the end of the week. She was happy to hear this, but her eyes looked tired and anxious by the time they were all done eating. As soon as she scraped up the last bite, she stood.

 

“We’ve been traveling a lot, Preston, so we’re gonna call it a night. We’ll be back bright and early tomorrow. And I’ve got some stuff I’d like to talk to you and Sturges about tomorrow, too, if that’s alright.”

 

Preston agreed and bid them goodnight. Hancock and MacCready followed Rose wordlessly until they crossed the bridge out of the settlement.

 

MacCready was the first to speak. “We’re not staying here?”

 

“No. I don’t…” she paused and scratched the back of her neck, “well, there’s somewhere else I prefer to stay.”

 

The Red Rocket just outside of Sanctuary came into view and Rose turned towards it. Neither Hancock nor MacCready thought much of it when they’d passed it earlier, but as Rose pulled a key from her pocket up nudged open the door to the building, they were taken aback. It was homey and comfortable looking; a colorful collection of rugs and scrap fabric covered the floor, Christmas lights hung along the walls and over several old paintings, and in the garage, in the middle of the workbenches and tools, sat a misshapen easel surrounded by several rusted cans of paint. Rose dropped her pack behind the counter and turned to them, gesturing around with arms spread.

 

“Home sweet home.” She bent down and began unlacing her boots. “It’s tighter than I remember,” she said, looking back up and around, “so if you guys wanna go back and crash in the bunks, I understand.”

 

“Nah, this is cozy. I like it,” Hancock said, letting his own pack slide off of his shoulder and onto the floor. MacCready nodded and did the same.

 

“Did you put all this together?” MacCready stared up at a faded painting of a lighthouse.

 

Rose shrugged off her jacket and took her hair out of its bun. “Yeah. I took a lot of this shit from Concord when we went scavving back when I was first here.”

 

Hancock stepped into the garage and looked around in awe. Large sheets of paper, broken canvases, panels of wood, and even the walls themselves were covered in paint. Portraits of people he didn’t recognize sat propped against the workbench, a giant bouquet of brightly-colored flowers adorned the garage door, a painting of the Red Rocket itself sat incomplete on the easel. It was like being in a museum.

 

MacCready poked his head into the room and his eyes grew wide. He called to the back room of the station. “Rose?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Did you do all _this_?”

 

She finished wriggling out of her overalls and joined them in the garage. Arms folded, she leaned back against a portrait of a dog next to the doorway and nodded. “I was an artist way back when. One of the best in Massachusetts. I even had my own little exhibit at the art museum in Boston.”

 

The anxiety in her eyes ebbed as she looked around in the garage. Painting had always been the thing that kept her sane, without fail. It was a relief that it still did nowadays.

 

“Damn. I should get you to spruce up Goodneighbor.” Hancock bent down to admire the portraits and turned to give Rose a wide grin. “What d’ya think? Maybe a big painting of me on the side of the State House?”

 

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “I think that’s exactly what Goodneighbor needs. Maybe we can put MacCready on one of the warehouses.”

 

“You seem pretty good, but I don’t know if you’d be able to capture my beauty,” MacCready said with a dramatic sigh. She elbowed him and he laughed before stepping back out of the garage to go change.

 

Rose moved across the room to stand beside Hancock, hands on her hips. He slid an arm across her shoulders and she leaned into him.

 

“So… if you were a painter, how’d you learn to build generators and shit?”

 

“Nate was one of the best engineers in the military. When we met, he’d just been hurt after being out in the field to help introduce soldiers to power armor upgrades he’d helped create. There was a bad break in his left arm, so it was pretty much impossible for him to work. I started helping him by drawing out the blueprints and designs and shit. It didn’t turn me into an engineer or anything, but I spent almost five years doing it for and with him, so I learned a lot.”

 

Hancock shook his head, smiling. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

 

“Start a fire.”

 

He chuckled and reached up to ruffle her hair. “You’re getting better at that.”

 

She turned to look up at him with such a loving smile that he couldn’t help but lean down and kiss her. His hand slid down towards her lower back, tracing the thin strip of skin between her underwear and tank top. She’d gotten into the habit of wandering around wherever they stayed for the night without pants since she didn’t like wearing her overalls to bed, and Hancock wasn’t opposed. He could tell MacCready didn’t dislike that new development either. Just like most of Rose, her legs were shapely, strong, plump, and all but covered in tattoos.

 

“Are you okay hanging around here for a while to help out?” Rose asked after a few moments of silence, leaning back into Hancock’s touch.

 

He nodded. “Yeah. They’ve got a good thing going out here, and Preston seems like a good guy. So I’m happy to.”

 

“Me too,” MacCready said as he came back into the garage, leaning on the doorframe. “Plus, it’s a spot to stay safe while we get ready for the Glowing Sea. Lots of settlers might mean lots of jobs to run.”

 

A frown flickered on Rose’s face and vanished before either of the men could notice. “Yeah, that’s true.”

 

She wriggled her fingers at MacCready with eyebrows raised until he finally moved to join them. When he stopped and stood awkwardly beside them, Rose slid her arm around his waist and pulled him close, standing on tiptoe to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. MacCready’s eyes flickered over to Hancock, who gave him a crooked smile and a shrug.

 

Rose kept doing little things like this more and more, and both of the men just went along with it. They both cared about her and each other deeply, and knew she felt the same about both of them, but there was a sort of strange unspoken tension hanging in the air over their unusual little trio. They all knew something needed to be talked about, but between that tension and the largely tragic romantic pasts they each had, no one really wanted to bring it up.  

 

They stood together, staring up at the large mural of flowers smeared across the garage door. It had been Rose’s favorite thing she’d made in her little makeshift studio when she was first staying in the Red Rocket, alone. It was so bright, colorful, and alive; such a marked contrast to the world she’d been thrust into without choice. That hadn’t quite changed, but Rose certainly found everything less dreary and dead than it seemed before, almost entirely because of the men that stood beside her. She hugged them more tightly for a moment before letting them go, and turned to reenter the gas station. The sun was only just done setting, but she was exhausted, and she could see in the Hancock and MacCready’s eyes that they were too. She gave them a tired smile and nodded towards the old back office she’d turned into a bedroom.

 

“C’mon. Let’s go to bed.”


	10. You & I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I totally decided to bust my ass this week and get this chapter out quickly since you guys were so patient with me. It's a little darker, but I think you guys will like what's coming up soon after this chapter!! 
> 
> Song: You & I by Local Natives

Rose and Hancock sat up against a shack near the edge of Sanctuary Hills, watching as the sun dipped below the horizon. They'd spent the day tearing down one of the last ruined houses to make more space for the growing market, making among the tougher days they’d had since coming to Sanctuary just two weeks before, and were both exhausted. MacCready had already headed back to the Red Rocket for the evening.

 

"I'm sorry this probably wasn't what you had in mind when you decided to travel with me," Rose told him as they finished off the last of some Cram.

 

Hancock shrugged as he lit a cigarette. "We're doing good work for people. Making the Commonwealth a little safer. Ain't nothing wrong with that. Besides, I don't mind taking a break from the Wasteland.”

 

Rose smirked and plucked the cigarette from his fingers. "Fair enough."

 

She took a drag before handing it back to him and began rummaging through her pack. He stared at her while her eyebrows creased and her lips became even more downturned as she searched. He'd seen so much of that same hardened determination across her face since he met her, and sometimes it was scarier than anything that roamed the Commonwealth. But then, there were times...

 _Times like this_.

 

A smile lit up her face as she pulled the bottle of wine they'd found in a formerly fancy neighborhood a few days before. He loved moments like this when her face became softer. Hancock wondered if this is what she was always like before the war. Of course he admired her strength, her viciousness in a fight, the way she'd tear through this wasteland for someone she loves, but he wished she never had to be that way. Rose reached across him and pulled his bayonet from his belt before attacking the wine cork with it.

 

"I thought you had a corkscrew," Hancock said, watching her struggle.

 

"I did," she huffed, wriggling the knife tip between the cork and the mouth of the bottle, "but I lost it."

 

"Lost it?"

 

She nodded, tongue between her teeth. Finally she popped the cork from the bottle and flicked it away unceremoniously.

 

"It's in the neck of that raider who jumped on top of you yesterday.” She took a swig of the wine. He let out a burst of laughter and she shot him a confused look.

 

“Can't believe you wasted your corkscrew like that.”

 

Rose shrugged and nudged him gently. “I'd miss having you around to annoy me.”

 

"I’m really growing on you, huh?"

 

“Like a parasite," she said with a wink. Rose knocked back a bit more wine before she perked up, remembering something. She handed Hancock her bottle and he took a sip as she dove back into her pack. He held up the bottle, impressed, and examined the label as she searched.

 

“Here we go. For you." Rose pulled out a large metal tin and held it out to him. They swapped, bottle for tin, and he snapped open the lid.

 

“Shit, Rose. Where'd you find all this?"

 

It was full to the brim with a rainbow of Mentats. Hancock wasn't sure he'd ever seen this many at once.

 

She shrugged, the lip of the bottle hanging in her fingertips between her knees. "I always keep an eye out and I finally managed to fill it up. They’re your favorite, right?"

 

He nodded, scooping up a few tablets and tossing them back. "This is..." he began, shaking his head in disbelief, "well... thanks. Almost as good as the book."

 

Rose said nothing, but gave him a warm smile that made his stomach flutter.

 

"Do you want one?"

 

He held the tin out to her. She eyed it, unsure. She hadn't had any Mentats since before she found out she was pregnant with Shaun, so it'd been a while. _Plus two hundred years,_ she thought, running a hand through her curls. And then there was the Psycho thing, which had been a little scary.

 

"I don't know. It's been a long time.”

 

He shrugged. "All the more reason, if you ask me. But I won't complain if you say no. More for me.”

 

Rose bit her lip and sighed. She'd been through hell and back since she'd come out of the vault. Why not? Besides, Mentats weren’t anything like Psycho, either. She reached over and chose one, threw her head back as it dissolved on her tongue, and washed it down with a swig of wine. They sat in silence, and Hancock watched her as the time passed. Her eyes grew wider as her mind and the world around her grew sharper and brighter. She hummed happily, looking around wistfully, and Hancock chuckled.

 

“I used to take these when I painted abstract stuff. Especially while I was still in college. Wasn’t my most popular work, but it was always my favorite. I could see everything I was thinking in those pieces.”

 

Her voice was airy and light, like every word was floating off of her tongue.

 

“Yeah?”

 

She nodded, tapping out a song on the wine bottle. “Mmhmm. There was one woman who liked it, though. Some art critic for a newspaper. She raved about it so much that I got commissioned to paint for this big art junkie in DC like a week before the bombs fell.” She paused. “Didn’t even get to start it.”

 

Her gaze fell to the ground as she mentioned the bombs. Hancock didn’t notice.

 

“You’re really something else, Rose, you know that?”

 

Rose jerked her head up and stared at him, mouth slightly agape and face flushed. Her dilated pupils from the chems made her eyes look shockingly wide behind her glasses.

 

"Uh... sorry," he said quickly, her expression making him nervous. _Fuck_.

 

"No, no," she stuttered, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose with the back of her hand. "You... that caught me off guard. Thank you."

 

She rubbed the back of her neck, and... giggled.

 

Rose clapped a hand over her mouth, internally screaming at herself.

 

_Did you just giggle?_

 

She tipped up the wine and downed half of its remains before glancing back over at Hancock, who was looking at her with an expression of what could only be pure joy.

 

"What?" She tried to snap, and he practically fell over laughing.

 

* * *

 

 

They stayed there long after the sky turned dark. It didn't take long for Rose to finish the bottle of wine, and then crack open a second one. They’d laughed and joked with each other for awhile, but Hancock couldn't help but notice she grew quieter as the bottles grew emptier. Even in darkness, he could see sadness gradually overtake her glazed eyes.  
  
"I keep waiting for myself to wake up and be used to this," she said, disrupting the silence that had developed.

  
Hancock said nothing, the glow of the end of his third cigarette illuminating his ruined face.  
  
"Almost four months and I still wake up forgetting where I am. It's a fucking joke."

 

Her voice caught. Rose wasn't sure why she was rambling like this.  Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the Mentats, maybe it was the busted combination of both. She could feel her frustrations boiling in her chest, threatening to spill out of her and onto a man who didn't deserve to drown in her tragedy.

  
Rose sighed and pressed her fingers to her temple. "I'm sorry," she muttered, drinking the last of the wine. She chucked the bottle away and it shattered on the rocks near the river.  
  
"For what?"  
  
She just shrugged. He blew a ring of smoke.  
  
"You don't have to be such a hardass all the time. As useful and terrifying as your unwavering steel is sometimes, you can be a little more vulnerable too. Maybe don't let your tears fall in the middle of a camp of Greenskins, but here with me? You got nothing to worry about."  
  
Rose allowed for a ghost of a smile.

  
"Thanks.”

 

Rose leaned into him, her head resting between his neck and shoulder. Hancock slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close.

 

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess. And that you and MacCready deal with it.”

 

Her voice was quieter now, and more sad than angry.

 

“Don’t apologize, Rose. I get it. Probably always will.”

 

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

 

“Rose--”

 

“Hancock, just--”

“It’s John.”

 

She blinked. “What?’

 

“My name,” he said, his voice dropping. “That’s my real name. John.”

 

“Oh.”

 

He swallowed, not entirely sure why he just told her that. It had just felt right. “You don’t have to call me that. I just wanted you to know.”

 

Rose was quiet for a moment, her hands wringing together in her lap.

 

“I--” she started, but then sat up abruptly. Hancock startled.  
  
"Will you help me up?"  
  
"You okay?" Hancock stood, slightly confused, but gripped her arm and lifted her gently.  
  
"I... yeah.” Her footing was clearly unsteady so he didn't let go. She straightened herself up and gripped his jacket. The look in her eyes was desperate. "I need to show you something."  
  
"You sure about that? Maybe you should lie down," he said, worried. He'd never seen her like this before.  
  
"Please," she begged, not relinquishing her hold on his coat.

 

Hancock pursed his lips, but nodded. "Alright. What?"  
  
Her eyes searched his for a moment, trying to find sincerity. She stepped back from him and gestured up the street before walking hurriedly in that direction. He followed close behind her, still concerned. The rest of the settlement appeared to be empty, all its residents hopefully holed up for the night. Hancock knew she wouldn't want her people to see her like this. She stopped in front of one of the better-preserved houses in Sanctuary Hills, one --he realized-- she'd made a point of steering the settlers away from. He paused at her side.  
  
Rose glanced over at Hancock, the look of worry and confusion on his face making her drug-addled heart ache. This man --who'd killed someone in front of her very eyes the first time they met-- cared so much about her. She looked back at the house and sighed.  
  
"This... this was my home. Before the war."

 

It hit Hancock like a ton of bricks. She’d told him about living in Sanctuary Hills on one of the first nights they spent together. How could he have forgotten?  
  
She wasn't really sure what made her want to tell him so desperately. No one else knew, besides Codsworth. The ache that cut through her every time she visited Sanctuary Hills was something she kept to herself. She'd only been inside once since emerging from Vault 111, and barely made it past the threshold before stumbling back out.  
  
Rose climbed the stone steps and forced open the grimy orange door, but Hancock grabbed her arm from behind before she could step inside.  
  
"You sure you wanna go in there?"

 

She nodded, not turning to look at him. He hesitated, but let her go before following her into the house. Hancock kept close to the doorway, watching as she wandered around the kitchen.  
  
Rose ran her fingers over the dirty countertops, remembering how she gushed to Nate about how clean they were after they'd gotten Codsworth. He'd gotten the Mr. Handy as a surprise for Rose so she had time to take care of Shaun and keep up with her painting. She'd never forget how his face glowed when he brought in the box for her.  
  
Rose paused at the fridge, spotting a torn, yellowed sheet of notebook paper still stuck to its grimy surface. She touched the paper gently, almost as if she expected it to crumble under her touch.  
  
_"Went to the store. Be back soon. Love you baby."_  
  
Nate must’ve scratched out the note because he'd gone out early the day the bombs fell to buy --she'd found out with delight later that morning-- a pack of Nuka-Cola Quantum. It had just been released to the public the day the bombs fell, and he'd gone out as soon as the grocery opened because he knew how excited Rose was to have some. They'd visited Nuka-World a month or so before that day and had gotten to try an exclusive batch, and she'd absolutely loved it.  
  
Their world fell apart before they got to share another one together.  
  
Rose slid the note out from under the magnet that pinned it to the fridge and folded it up to slip in her pocket.  
  
"I hate seeing the house like this," she whispered. "But I haven't found the strength to fix it yet."  
  
Hancock finally moved to stand next to her. She jumped slightly when he rested his hand near the small of her back.  
  
"It hasn't been all that long, Rose. Give yourself some time,” he murmured. She just gave Hancock another half-hearted smile. Her mind was swimming now, memories from her distant but not-so-distant past bubbling up more vividly than usual.  
  
Her hand groped at the air before she found Hancock's, intertwining her fingers tightly with his. His hand was limp briefly, but then he gave her hand a squeeze.  
  
"Do you want to leave?" He now desperately just wanted to get her to sleep, and really wished he hadn't given her those Mentats with her wine. He wished MacCready was there, too.  
  
Rose shook her head and pulled him towards the hallway. She paused at its end, staring into the room to their left. A large, ruined bed sat at its center. She reached out, steadying herself on the doorframe, gripping it hard. Hancock heard it crack under the pressure.    
  
"That morning, we were getting ready for a military ball. Nate, he..."  
  
She coughed, and didn't finish her sentence. Nate was supposed to speak at the Veteran's Hall that night. He'd just finished designing a new, sleek set of power armor that he worked on for over a year. Rose had drawn almost all the blueprints for it, even though Nate was well enough then to do it himself. It was going to be one of his most important presentations, and he’d always said she brought everything to life on paper in ways he couldn’t.

  
She quickly turned the adjacent room and Hancock felt her shaking. He peered inside, wincing at the sight of a busted-up crib that glowed in the faint light of her Pip-Boy.  
  
Rose dropped his hand and walked--almost as if in a trance--to the center of the room, and rested her hands on the end of the crib. She reached up and tapped it's broken mobile, the little spaceships wobbling as it gave a weak turn.    
  
"We named him after Nate's father," she whispered, running her thumbs across the worn blue paint.  
  
Hancock watched her from the doorway until something shining in a small pile of rubble near his feet caught his eye. He bent down and dug out a cracked picture frame.  
  
She spoke with a wet chuckle. “He had the loudest cry. We were lucky he didn't cry much."  
  
He stared down at the photo. Rose wore a soft lavender dress, and her curly hair was shorter than it was now but just as wild. Her face was clear of all but one scar: the little moon-shaped one on her chin. She cradled a small, chubby baby in her arms, who very clearly inherited her curls. Beside her stood who he assumed to be Nate. He’d unknowingly seen his face before, back in one of the portraits back in the Red Rocket. Much to Hancock's surprise, the man reminded him of himself, pre-ghoulification. His long blonde hair was pulled back and he had bright blue eyes. They all looked so happy. He'd never seen a grin on Rose like it before.  
  
He slipped the picture into his coat pocket. This could either be the best time or the worst time to give it to her, so he decided against it. Instead, he joined her beside the crib.  
  
"Why did this happen to me?" Rose demanded of no one in particular. Tears spilled down her cheeks, cutting lines through the dirt and grime that coated her face. All the hurt she'd managed to keep bottled up over the past few months, all the pain that hadn’t been sated by beating Kellogg to a pulp, spilled over and hit her in the gut all at once. Everything she had, everything she loved, was all ripped away from her. She watched her husband die, had their child stolen from her, and emerged into a world that wasn't even her own anymore. And she’d been so close, _so close_ to finding him, only to find out he was even farther away than she’d thought.  
  
"We should never have gone to that fucking vault. We should've stayed here, and died together.”  
  
"What?" Hancock finally said as gently as he could, not quite catching what she said.  
  
Rage washed over Rose's features. She shoved the crib hard, sending it flying into the wall. It splintered on impact.  
  
"We should've died! I should be dead!"

 

She whipped around to face Hancock. Her fist came down hard on the changing table that sat near where the crib had been. The old wood practically disintegrated from the blow. "But I'm here. Alone. Lost in some fucking hellscape, trying to rescue my son from the biggest goddamn monster in the Commonwealth!"  
  
Her foot connected with the wall, leaving a large dent in the cracked panels. "What did I do to deserve this? Why the fuck am I still here?"  
  
She stood there, chest heaving and fists clenched, wide eyes begging him--begging anyone--for an answer. Fury crumbled to anguish before she sunk to the ground, hunching over as sobs wracked her body.  
  
Hancock knelt beside her and pulled her into him, leaving one arm wrapped around her shoulders. She didn't resist. He stroked her hair with his free hand as she let out muffled cries into his chest.  
  
He was quiet for a while, deciding to let her wear herself out.

  
"Rose," he began after she'd calmed down some, "I... I can't really imagine what you're going through. Won't pretend like I can. But you're not alone. You're always gonna have me to follow you around the wasteland. MacCready too."  
  
Her arms looped around his neck and she shifted, her head resting in the crook of his neck again. Her breath was warm on the exposed skin above the collar of his jacket, but she said nothing. Hancock adjusted, wrapping his own arms around her more tightly.  
  
"I always run away, you know that? Always on the run from my problems, so I never stick around anywhere. Never have. But I don't want to run, Rose. You make me feel like I don't need to anymore. So I promise, no matter how alone you feel, you never will be.”

  
His voice had dropped to a whisper. He felt her fingers stroking gently on the back of his neck.

 

“I’m s--”

 

“Rose, please stop apologizing. You have nothing to be sorry for.” His voice was gentle but firm, firm enough that she didn’t try to argue back.

 

They sat there for awhile longer in silence, until Hancock managed to get Rose to stand. They made a slow journey back to the Red Rocket, and Hancock was surprised to find MacCready scribbling away at Rose’s desk by the light of a candle.

 

His eyebrows creased and he stood when he noticed them come in, surprised to see Rose barely standing on her own. “Is everything okay?”

 

Hancock gave a quick shake of his head and gestured for MacCready to come help him. The two men helped Rose out of her boots and overalls before getting her into bed. She immediately curled up into the fetal position and began to cry again when she hit the mattress. MacCready looked from her to Hancock, his face distraught.

 

“What happened?”

 

“Another time,” Hancock whispered. “Let’s just get through tonight.”

 

In silent agreement, the two laid down on the mattress on either side of Rose. Her sobbing softened as she felt them around her, MacCready taking her hands and Hancock laying an arm over her waist. They held her until she calmed down and drifted into a dreamless sleep. Hancock and MacCready stayed even after she’d fallen asleep, enjoying the feeling of all being curled together and both dozed off shortly after her.


	11. Sweet Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoy! And just a fun heads up that some good stuff is coming here soon ;)
> 
> Song: Sweet Moment by Bowerbirds

Rose awoke with a groan. Her head was throbbing and the urgent need to vomit washed over her without warning. She scrambled up, jostling Hancock and MacCready awake, and stumbled outside. Everything she’d had the night before came up, burning her throat and leaving her shaking as her body struggled to force everything out. She was hunched over with her hands and knees pressed into the concrete when she felt a hand on her back. After a few more coughs, she managed to turn back, finding MacCready crouched down beside her and Hancock not too far away with a can of purified water and a rag in his hands.  
  
Rose tried to adjust but fell back on her butt with a groan. The ground was cold beneath her bare thighs and bits of rock dug into her skin, but she couldn’t quite get herself to move. The sun hadn’t come up yet and she didn’t have her glasses on, so the world was nothing but a smear of stars and darkness.  
  
MacCready sat down beside her and she leaned into him and shut her eyes so the blurry world would stop spinning.  
  
“You okay to get up?” MacCready spoke after a few moments of silence. His voice was gentle.  
  
Rose nodded and he helped her stand. She took the can and rag from Hancock, wiping her face and taking small sips of water. They helped her back to bed, but MacCready pulled Hancock back outside of the room.

 

“You gotta tell me what happened.” His voice was low so that Rose wouldn’t hear him.

 

Hancock sighed and took off his hat to run a hand over his head. “She drank a lot last night. Both those bottles we found in that house a few days back.”

 

“And?”

 

“And then she took me to that house that Preston hasn’t had cleared out yet.” He paused. “It was hers before the war, Mac. This is where she lived with her family.”

 

MacCready drew in a sharp breath and glanced back at Rose. “Shit.”

 

“Yeah, shit. She lost it. Tore up furniture and was yelling about how she should be dead.”

 

The two stood in silence for a beat, neither completely sure how to handle it all, but both glad that the other was there for Rose too. Without really thinking about it, Hancock reached out and clapped a hand on MacCready’s shoulder and pulled him into a tight hug. MacCready didn’t hesitate to return it.

 

When they separated, MacCready nodded back towards Rose. “We should--”

 

“Yeah.”

 

They went back into the room and climbed into bed on either side of her, huddling together like they had before.  
  
“I thought,” Rose started, taking a shaky breath, “I thought I could be here again. But I can’t. I’m not ready.”

 

Frustration clenched her heart. Rose thought that after she killed Kellogg, she’d be able to handle being back in Sanctuary. But memories ate away at here every day they were here. She was starting to feel like she had back when she first came out of the vault, even with Hancock and MacCready around.

 

“That’s okay. Nothing wrong with that, Rose.” Hancock ran his fingers up and down her arm and she relaxed a little.  
  
MacCready nodded, twining his fingers with hers. “Yeah. There’s plenty of ways for us to get ready for the Glowing Sea. And even if you wanna keep helping the Minutemen, we can just go help at other settlements. Preston did say they had a few more up and running.”  
  
“We could head back to Diamond City too, if you wanted. I betcha Nicky has some work we could help him with. And there’s always shit me or Fahr needs done. I get to decide how city caps get spent anyway.”  
  
Rose let out a breathy laugh and shook her head. She still didn’t understand how she’d gotten so lucky, meeting Hancock and MacCready. Anything she needed, any problem she had, they were ready to jump and fix it. It warmed her to her core. She brought hers and MacCready’s intertwined hands up to her lips and kissed his knuckles.  
  
“What’d I do to deserve you two?” Her voice was hoarse, raw from getting sick and choked up from the threat of tears. She wiped her free hand over her face. She paused briefly to gather herself before she spoke again.

 

“Nate, he… he made me realize what it felt like to really love someone. He wasn’t the first person I ever loved. He won’t be the last. But I think he taught me what it meant to love.”

 

Rose watched MacCready swallow and nod, a flash of hurt in his eyes that Rose knew all too well. She knew for sure at that moment that he’d lost someone just like she did. Hancock’s hand paused on her arm and gave it a gentle, comforting squeeze.

 

“I think it’s gonna be hard for me, for a while,” she continued. “I’m probably always gonna have bad nights. ‘Cause I’ll always love him. But I just… I need you both to know that that doesn’t really get in the way of whatever this is.”

 

Hancock cocked a bare brow, a small smirk on his face that only MacCready could see. “This?”

 

“Yes, this,” Rose said, nudging him with her elbow. “Y’know. Us.”

 

They returned to Sanctuary later that morning to talk to Preston and Sturges. Rose finally told them both _everything_ \--which she decided she’d put off doing for far too long--and thankfully it hadn’t been too difficult to do. After she admitted she wasn’t ready to stay in Sanctuary yet, Preston seemed a little disheartened, but he understood. Much to Rose’s delight, they gave her a hefty amount of caps from the market profits for the Glowing Sea. She tried to refuse, but Preston insisted, telling her the trading market only existed because of her anyway. After finally accepting, Rose, Hancock, and MacCready bid the two men goodbye, promising a return at some point, once Rose was feeling up to it.

 

As they crossed the bridge leaving Sanctuary, MacCready paused and turned to Rose.

 

“So. Where we headed, boss?”

 

Rose frowned, thumbing the butt of the pistol on her belt.

 

“I think,” she started, staring out at the Commonwealth stretched before her, “we should go to the farm just south of here. Preston mentioned last week that they found a spot nearby that would make for a good settlement. They’d pay us for clearing it out, I bet.”

 

“Sounds good to me.” Hancock nudged her and nodded forward. ”Lead the way.”

 

Rose smiled and tapped a few commands into her Pip-Boy. She hadn’t worn it much while they stayed in Sanctuary, and it felt heavy and a little awkward on her arm. It was never particularly pleasant to wear, but it was too useful to give up, so she powered through.

 

They veered off of the road after passing the Red Rocket. Rose pointed to an electrical tower off in the distance. “That’s it over there, I think. Preston told me they built up around a tower.”

 

They hiked through the uneven terrain in relative peace, only having to pop a couple of molerats in between banter that MacCready and Hancock were happy to hear Rose throw out, especially after last night.

 

“...but I’m definitely the fastest. Can’t argue with that.”

 

Rose rolled her eyes. “But that’s not everything, Mac. And I think Hancock’s stronger.”

 

“Sure fuckin’ am.” Hancock grinned. “And you’re only faster ‘cause you’re still a kid.”

 

“I’m almost 23!”

 

“You’re _twenty-two_?” Rose whistled and kicked a rock out of her path. “Goddamn, I feel old.”

  
_“_ Wha-- _You’re over two-hundred years old!”_

 

Rose and Hancock laughed at a fuming MacCready. She moved to walk beside him and bumped him with her shoulder. “Yeah, but I was the ripe old age of 25 when they froze me. So if I wasn’t technically pushing my 230’s, I’d still be older.”

 

She spun around to face both of them and started walking backward.

 

“ _And_ , doesn’t matter which one of you is faster or stronger. We all know who’d _really_ win in a fight.”

 

Rose swung her bat off her shoulder and flexed both tattooed arms, flaunting an impressive show of muscles that were often concealed by her bomber jacket. Too often concealed, in Hancock and MacCready’s opinions. They both returned the broad grin she gave them.

 

Hancock shrugged. “Not gonna argue with that.”

 

Rose turned back around to lead, until they reached a cliff-like overhang surrounded by a steep incline. The farm’s large house built around the electrical tower was now in view just over the hill.

 

She stared at the hill with a look of mild disgust. “That is a fucking _climb_ .”

“Ah, c’mon,” MacCready chided, “it’s not that bad.”

 

“It’s almost at a 90-degree angle in some spots! I’m just gonna go around to where it isn’t so steep.”

 

Hancock nodded. “Think I’m with Rose on this one, Mac.”

 

“You guys are--”

 

A low growl cut through the air, coming from above them, and the trio froze. Rose grabbed the two men by the arm and yanked them under the overhang. Little rocks rolled down around them as they pressed up against the wall of dirt. Heavy, lumbering steps grew closer above them, causing grass and debris to rain down on them.

 

“Is that a deathclaw?” MacCready whispered, barely audible.

 

Rose shook her head once. “Yao guai.”

 

She’d know that disgusting growl anywhere. The last morning she was with the trade caravan of ghouls she’d stayed with for a while--the same day she went to Goodneighbor for the first time--they got attacked by one. Even though she wasn’t hurt, the fight had been far from pleasant.

 

It was silent for a beat, and then the footsteps retreated from above them. Rose shifted slightly as she let herself relax, and a twig snapped under her foot.

 

There was a loud, sliding crash as the beast slid down the hill beside them. The all darted out from under the overhang and away from the enormous, stumbling yao guai. Rose dropped her bat and yanked her assault rifle off of her back in one swift motion, unleashing a spray of bullets in its direction. It roared in anger and bounded towards them, hardly affected by the attack. It turned to charge at Rose. It barely missed her as she dove to the side and rolled a few feet away.

 

Hancock took aim and managed to land two shots before the beast turned its attention to him and MacCready. It surged forward, swatting the rifle from MacCready’s hands just as he raised it and knocking him into the steep hill with its other massive paw. He let out a cry of pain and clutched at his arm. A deep red stain blossomed on his sleeve.

 

Rose yelled to get the beast’s attention and pushed herself up. There was fire in her eyes as she unloaded the remainder of the clip in her rifle. A spray of bullets struck the skull of the yao guai and its head exploded in a burst of blood and gore, splattering the ground around it as it collapsed. The weapon clattered out of her hand as soon as the beast fell and she rushed over to MacCready, Hancock not far behind.

 

“Let me see.”

 

Rose’s voice was teetering on being frantic. She laid her fingers on his bleeding arm and he inhaled sharply. Her hands jerked back for fear of hurting him more, but she managed to get a better look at his arm. It was bent at an awkward, almost sickening angle, and there were gashes from where the claws cut through his sleeve.

 

MacCready licked his lips and took short, shallows breaths. “I think I landed on it wrong.”  
  
“Hancock, can you--”

 

Before Rose could finish her sentence, she felt a hand on her shoulder nudge her aside. She moved and Hancock kneeled beside her, stimpak in hand. “Probably broken, but I’ve seen worse. You’ll be okay.”

 

“‘Course you have,” MacCready muttered, rolling his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut as Hancock pressed the needle into his arm. After a moment, his breathing and the bleeding slowed.

 

“We need to get you up to the farm.”

 

Rose looped her hand around his bicep and he gritted his teeth. Hancock grabbed his other one and they helped him stand. Luckily his arm was the only injury any of them sustained, so it wasn’t too much trouble to make their way around to the less steep part of the hill and up towards the settlement. A pair of settlers jogged up towards them, pipe rifles raised, as they made it to the top of the slope. The one on the left paused a few feet away from them.

 

“What happened?”

 

Hancock nodded down to MacCready’s arm. “Yao Guai.”

 

The settlers’ grip on their guns visibly tightened, but Rose stepped forward. “It’s dead. But he’s hurt. Are you guys from Abernathy?”

 

The other nodded. “You the General?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Alright. C’mon,” he said turning to walk towards the farm. “We’ll take you to Blake and get your friend set up somewhere to rest.”

 

They thanked the two and followed them up to the settlement. Rose’s back was aching when they finally got close to the building. She had her bat, assault rifle, and MacCready’s rifle all strapped to her, and it was heavier than she’d expected.

 

An older man looked up from the mutfruit tree he was tending to as they approached. He eyed them warily for a second, but then brightened.

 

“General Kekoa?”

 

Rose nodded and gave him a small smile. “That’s me.”

 

He held out a rough hand and she shook it. “Great. I’m guessing Garvey told you about Starlight?”

 

“He did. Plan was to head down and clear it out now, but we got attacked by a yao guai just before we got here.” She gestured to MacCready. “And one of my partners got hurt.”

 

Blake Abernathy eyed MacCready’s arm briefly and waved them towards the house. “We ain’t got much, but we have somewhere he can stay while a stim does its work. I’m guessing you already gave him one?”

 

“Yeah. Thank you, Mr. Abernathy,” Hancock said as they crossed the threshold into the building. It was large, built mostly out of scrap wood, but it looked sturdy and almost homely. Some of the settlers’ eyes followed them as they made their way through the building and into a back room with a bed.

 

“No problem. We’re grateful for the Minutemen. Happy to help.”

 

With that, Blake Abernathy left the three alone. MacCready sat down on the bed, still cradling his bad arm. Hancock sat beside him and gestured for his arm. MacCready gritted his teeth and extended it as much as he could so Hancock cold examine it. Rose took the weapons off of her back and settled on the other side of MacCready. She took his hand in hers, which he squeezed as Hancock probed his bad arm.

 

“Think the stim is working just fine. You just gotta wait this one out, Mac. Broken bones take patience. I’ll make you a sling so you don’t move it too much.”

 

Hancock shrugged the pack off of his shoulders and dug around inside, looking for something to use as a sling. Rose handed him hers just in case.

 

MacCready turned to Rose. “So. Kekoa? I don’t think I’ve heard a name like that before.”

 

“It’s Hawaiian. That’s where my family was from.” Rose smiled and brushed her hair behind her ear. “But I guess you probably haven’t heard of Hawaii before either, huh?”

 

MacCready shook his head, but Hancock nodded and he tied together two longs scraps of fabric from Rose’s bag.

 

“Wasn’t that where that military base was? The one that got bombed during World War II?”

 

Rose looked at him, surprised, but only briefly. Hancock read a lot and said he’d always liked to do so. Of course he’d know. Her grin widened “Yeah. That’s it.”

 

Hancock winked at her as he finished up the makeshift sling and helped MacCready adjust it so it was comfortable. “There you go, Mac. Should be better in no time.”

 

“Thanks,” MacCready said as Rose nudged him back to lay down on the bed. He tried to wave her off. “Hey, hey. I’m _fine_ , Rose.”

 

She didn’t relent, but turned briefly to Hancock. “Will you go talk to Mr. Abernathy about Starlight? See what we might be dealing with?”

 

Hancock agreed and left the room. Rose turned back to MacCready, a determined look on her face. “Will you just--”

 

“Stop-- will _you_ just--” MacCready laughed as she splayed her hands across his chest and pushed him down. “Okay, okay. Fine.”

 

Rose grinned and adjusted the straw pillow under his head. She reached up to take off his hat and smoothed a hand over his hair. “You sure you’re alright?”

 

“ _Yes_. I’m fine” He stared up at her for a second with a strange smile. “Never better, actually.”

 

Her face warmed and she rolled her eyes. “Uh huh.”

 

“I’m serious.”

 

Rose hummed and bent over to press her lips against his. The kiss was long, slow, and sweet, leaving his lips tingling when she pulled back enough to speak. “I know.”

 

He reached up to cup her cheek, his face faltering slightly.

 

“I’m sorry about last night. I wish I’d been there.”

 

She shrugged. “I’m okay.”

 

“I know, but,” he sighed, letting his hand fall away from her face, “you’re not. Not really. Even if it feels that way.”

 

Her brow furrowed and MacCready shook his head. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. That’s just the truth. You lost someone that meant the world to you, and that’s always gonna be with you. There’s always gonna be times when it stings.”

 

It was quiet for a moment before Rose spoke. “Did you—“

 

“Yeah. But I’m just… not ready to talk about it yet.”

 

“Okay.” She took his hand again and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I understand.”

 

Hancock reappeared in the doorway. When he saw the look on MacCready’s face, he frowned. “You guys alright?”

 

“Yeah,” Rose said, giving Hancock a pointed look that told him to leave it for later. “What did Mr. Abernathy say?”

 

“It’s just a big nest of molerats. _Big_ nest. That’s why they haven’t taken care of it themselves. But that’s it. Should be easy. We can go in the morning since Mac’s arm should be fine by then.”

 

Rose bit her lip and shook her head. “No, no. Let’s just go ahead and go now.”

 

“What? But he--”

 

“MacCready can stay here and rest,” she said, reaching for her pack. She strapped it back on and stood. “It’s safe here. And if it’s just a molerat nest, you and I can handle it.”

 

MacCready pushed himself up, ready to protest, but Rose was already ready with a stern look.

 

“Please don’t argue with me, Mac. You’re hurt, and I just wanna get this over with so we can move on.

 

He turned to Hancock, looking for support, but the ghoul shrugged. Rose was right in that just the two of them could take care of it, but he knew if he was in MacCready’s position, he’d be upset too.

 

She reached down and held his chin between her thumb and forefinger. “I don’t like doing things like this without you. You know that. But I just don’t want to stay here long. Okay?”

 

MacCready pursed his lips, still not looking happy about it, but nodded.Rose exhaled and bent down further to give him a smile and another kiss.

 

“Thank you.” She straightened up and joined Hancock at the door. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

 

MacCready bid them both a begrudging goodbye as they left the room. Rose paused to talk to Mr. Abernathy once again before they left, informing him that MacCready would stay behind while she and Hancock cleaned out Starlight. The old farmer told them that it was a short ways away, and that they’d probably make it back by nightfall.

 

“And the room your friend is staying in is yours for the night.”

 

Rose smiled. “We really appreciate it, Mr. Abernathy.”

 

“Please, call me Blake.” He turned away from them briefly, eyeing his settlement and the people in it. “ You and the Minutemen are really doing good for all us little guys. The Commonwealth is getting safer every day. So a room for the night is the least I can do.”

 

He wished them luck as they left the farm. Hancock watched Rose tap away at her Pip-Boy when they reached the edge of the settlement. She looked up and caught him staring.

 

“What?”

 

He shrugged and gave her a half-smile. “Nothing.”

 

“Whatever.” She grinned and waved him on. “Let’s go.”

 

“Right behind you.”


	12. Mad Sounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long delay. Things have been pretty tough for me lately financially and mentally and it's made it hard to write. I actually just found out today too that my school isn't going to give me the financial aid I was told I'd have and that I very desperately needed for this school year, so, yikes!! That being said, if anyone would like a writing commission, PLEASE shoot me a message on my tumblr (joshhutchersonscat) or drop a comment so I can get in touch with you! And if anyone is just feeling extra kind, any donations would be wildly appreciated too (paypal is 1katara8@gmail.com). 
> 
> On a happier note, the SMUT HAS FINALLY ARRIVED!! This is my first time publishing smutty stuff, so bear with me. And I hope it was worth the wait :)
> 
> Song: Mad Sounds by the Arctic Monkeys

“Tell me something.”

 

“What?”

 

Hancock nudged her gently and smiled. “Tell me something. A story, a joke, how great you think I am, something.”

 

They’d been walking for a while, not quite in silence but in something closer to it than usual. It was strange doing a job without MacCready. It didn’t make either of them happy to leave him behind, and she hoped he really understood that. It was just a matter of getting out of this part of the Commonwealth sooner rather than later.

 

Rose rolled her eyes but gave his request some thought. Most of what he knew about her was depressing and harsh, save for the fact that she was an artist. She didn’t really want to talk about Nate anymore, either. Hancock watched the frown on her face deepen as she thought about it.

 

“Hey,” he said, turning to her, “tell me about Hawaii?”

 

Her face softened and she brightened a little. “Oh, yeah. Okay. What do you want to know?”

 

“Anything.”

 

“Well,” she began, ruffling her hair, “I lived there until I was 13. I always wished we could’ve stayed longer, but my dad was worried about the war. He thought the Chinese would take the islands because we were so far from the mainland.”

 

She paused, smiling. “It was so beautiful there, Hancock. We lived on Maui, so I’ll always think that was the prettiest, but every island was just so beautiful. Nowhere else in the world compared. It was so bright and colorful and full of life. Sometimes, after we moved to New York, I’d try to paint it, but it just always felt like it was too much for me to capture in one painting. I don’t think I ever even finished a painting of it I liked until after a couple years of college in Boston.”

 

“Sounds like the opposite of the Commonwealth.”

 

Hancock thought about the flowers Rose painted on the garage door of the Red Rocket, how different they were from really everything else he’d grown up around. Everything in the Commonwealth was dirty, greenish, and muted. The brightest colors anyone ever saw consisted mostly of blood or irradiated sludge.

 

Rose laughed. “Yeah. I guess that’s true.”

 

A radroach scuttled out from one of those Pulowski Preservation shelters. She jumped aside and flattened it beneath her bat with a loud _crunch_.

 

He smiled as she shook the radroach guts off of the bat. “What was your favorite part of living there?”

 

“My family,” she said without hesitation. “My _ohana_. I had a huge family. Fifteen of us moved to New York, but way more stayed behind.”

 

“ _Fifteen_?”

 

She hummed. “My parents, grandparents, me, and my four brothers made up most of that.”

 

“Wow.” Hancock whistled. “I only have one brother.”

 

“What? I didn’t know you had a brother!”

 

He snorted. He thought about explaining all the shit that happened with his brother and Diamond City. She probably didn’t even know who Mayor McDonough was. It would be easier just to keep it simple, for now.

 

“Ah well, he ain’t exactly around anymore, so. No need to mention him.”

 

Rose matched his pace so they were walking side by side and took his hand in hers. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Me too,” he said with a shrug. “But I don’t wanna talk about him or me. It was more fun talking about you.”

 

She nudged him. “I prefer talking about you.”

 

“Me? C’mon now. I ain’t all that interesting, especially compared to you.”

 

“Then…” Rose swallowed and licked her lips. “Let’s talk about us.”

 

That caught him off-guard, but he didn’t let it show. Even after what she’d said to him and MacCready in bed this morning, last night still felt like a huge step back. He cared about her--a _lot_ \--and he wasn’t about to push for too much when she was hurting.

 

“Us?” He gave her a half-smirk. “Gotta be more specific than that, Vaultie.”

 

“You know what I mean.”

 

He was quiet for a beat. “Yeah, I do. But, still dunno what to say. You know how I feel.”

 

Rose half-laughed. There was just a whoosh of air from her nose. She looked down at her feet and kicked a rock out of her path. It skittered across the broken concrete and hit an old lamp post with a ding.

 

“Yeah. I think I do. But--”

 

“But what?”

 

She shook her head. “I don’t know. It just… all seems too good to be true. The ‘how did I get so lucky’ thing is something people say a lot, but I mean that. I thought Nate would be it for me, you know? And then I met you and MacCready, so it’s just--”

 

“Look,” Hancock started, swinging an arm across her shoulders and pulling her close, “you gotta let that go. Like you’ve noticed, life is generously unkind out here. So you gotta learn to take the good shit where you get it, and take it without question. You feel me?”

 

Rose smiled as she was reminded of their very first conversation. “I feel you.”

 

“Good.”

 

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and she leaned into him, his arm still draped across her shoulders. It made walking a little awkward, but neither of them cared.

 

As Starlight came into view, Rose paused. Hancock looked down at her, confused. They were still a good hundred yards away. “What’s up?”

 

She turned around, her eyes scanning the road and the trees behind them, but there was nothing there. Her grip visibly tightened on her bat.

 

“Rose?”

 

She stayed silent for a moment more before pursing her lips and turning back around in resignation. “Sorry. I just had a weird feeling, like someone was following us.”

 

“MacCready, maybe?” Hancock chuckled.

 

“It better not be,” Rose said, the seriousness falling away from her face, “or I might just break his other arm.”

 

They resumed walking until they reached the building that sat on the drive-in’s lot. One side of the overhang jutting out from either side of the building had fallen down, so they crouched behind it and scanned the stretch of land in front of them. There were mostly just old cars, but a cloud of dust blew around the center of the lot. Two large molerats skittered out from behind one of the cars, causing another one to pop up from under the ground.

 

Rose wrinkled her nose and made a quiet sound of disgust. “God. I hate those fucking things.”

 

“Don’t we all. Gimme one of those frags we found.”

 

She shrugged off her pack and dug around inside before handing Hancock one of the many grenades they’d taken off a group of raiders a while back.

 

He tugged the pin out, leaving it clenched between his teeth. “Thanks, baby girl.”

 

Rose froze for a beat, and the only sounds were that of the grenade skidding across the dirt and the angry cries of the molerats. A wide grin stretched across Hancock’s face before he spat the grenade pin away and Rose’s words were hardly masked by the explosion.

 

_“Baby girl?”_

 

They rounded the fallen overhang and ran towards the center of the drive-in, where the nest of surviving molerats burst from the ground.

 

“What? You don’t like it?”

 

She swung hard as a molerat launched itself at her. It exploded, showering her in blood and sending the corpse flying through one of the car windshields. “I didn’t say that.”

 

Hancock swapped his shotgun for the pistol he’d taken off Kellogg and fired a quick succession of shots, hitting four molerats in their skulls. The bat slipped from Rose’s blood-slicked grip as she swung at another one of the creatures, but she had her 10mm unholstered and firing in one swift movement. It took mere minutes to dispose of the whole nest. Hancock brushed gore off of his jacket, watching Rose as she retrieved her bat.

 

She replaced the pistol on her hip and leaned on her bat. “That was easy.”

 

“Yeah, but let’s not tell MacCready that. We can make it sound like we really needed him.”

 

“Oh, he’d _love_ that.”

 

Rose started to laugh, but the smile fell from her face as a screech came from behind her. Another unsettlingly large molerat burst from the bushes surrounding the edge of the drive-in lot and charged them. She was just a second too slow to move, and the creature’s teeth sunk into her lower leg. A pained and furious string of curses accompanied her swing down on the molerat’s body. She shook it off of her and brought the bat down on it a few more times until it stopped twitching.

 

Hancock didn’t really know what it was. She was clutching that gore-smattered bat, covered in molerat blood, with an alarmingly feral look on her face as she stared down at the dead creature. But he couldn’t stop whatever had just washed over him, and he was on her in seconds, fingers tangled in her hair and lips pressed into hers. She let out a choked, startled sound that quickly melted into a whimper. Her bat clattered to the ground and she bunched the ruffles of his shirt in her fists, pulling him closer into her.   
  
He started to pull back but she followed him, making little sounds of protest that Hancock thought would make him explode. She finally relented stared up at him with her mouth hanging open ever so slightly.   
  
“What was that for?”   
  
He smiled and shrugged. ”Guess I kinda like it when you go all psycho.”

 

She cocked a suggestive eyebrow, but the stinging pain in her calf brought her back down to reality and she looked down with a grimace. Hancock nodded to the building behind them.

 

“C’mon. I’ll take a look at it.”

 

Rose looped an arm around Hancock’s waist and he helped her limp around the bodies of the molerats. They went inside and he cleared the trash off of part of the counters so Rose could boost herself up. Hancock kneeled down and rolled up the leg of her overalls, letting out a pained hiss as he saw the wound.

 

“Oh, come on.” Rose leaned back on her hands and looked up at the ceiling. “Is it that bad, doc?”

 

He prodded around the bite and she jerked her leg away. “It’s deep. That thing had some fucking chompers. I’ll clean it and use a stim.”

 

They sat in silence as Hancock tended to the wound. She watched him work, always in awe of how gentle he managed to be when she was injured. A smile crept across her face as his fingers brushed over her skin. _Rough hands with the gentlest touch._

 

She’d thought a lot about what a complex and contradictory person Hancock was since the day they met. Mayor, killer, revolutionary, medic; there were so many titles, but there was so much Rose felt like she didn’t understand, even after the months they’d spent practically every moment together.

 

“Hancock?”

 

He unraveled a bandage from his pack. “Hm?”

 

“Why’d you kill that man? The first time we met?”

 

“Was wondering if you’d ever ask.” His eyes flickered up to meet hers for a brief moment and he smiled. “Finn, he-- well, he had it coming for a while. Timing was just right.”

 

He finished binding the wound and stood, letting his hands rest on the counter on either side of her thighs. He leaned in close, their faces just inches from each other, and his smile stretched into a wide grin.

 

“Plus, the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen just walked into town and he was harassing her. Couldn’t help but try to impress.”

 

Heat flooded Rose’s face but Hancock caught her lips in a kiss before she could look down. The kiss was soft and patient, a marked contrast to before when he’d all but pounced on her before. Her hands settled on his chest and he reached up to tilt her head back just enough to deepen the kiss.

 

It was like Christmas in the Third Rail all over again. Everything seemed to disappear around her; it felt like they were the only two people in the world. Now, at the very least, they were the only two around, and she suddenly wanted to make use of that.

 

Rose’s breathing became more fervent, and her palms slid up to push the jacket down from his shoulders. As it fell to the ground, she moved to make quick work of the ruffled white shirt too. His laughter interrupted their kiss and Hancock pulled away with a crooked smile.

 

“We really doing this?”

 

Rose stuck out her now-swollen bottom lip in a pout. “You don’t want to?”

 

“Oh, I want to,” he rumbled, looping his fingers around the straps of her overalls and pulling her forward on the counter. The drop in his voice sent a bolt of fire down her spine. “Just didn’t want to rush you. And I thought I’d be able to treat you to somewhere a little nicer, y’know?”

 

“Next time?” She finished yanking the shirt up and over his head.

 

His grin turned almost wolfish. “Next time.”

 

He moved to undo her overalls, but she stopped him, hands on his shoulders and eyes staring hard at his bare top half. The smile dropped from his face as quickly as it came.  
  
“What? What’s wrong?” He felt his insecurities swimming to the surface.   
  
“Nothing,” she said distractedly. She ran her hands down his arms painfully slowly before moving back to his torso. Her touch was bordering on feather-light, leaving his skin tingling. “You... you’re just so beautiful. I mean, I knew what you looked like and all, but this is just... wow.”   
  
“Isn’t that my line?” Hancock said, his voice wavering. He swallowed. “You joking?”   
  
Her eyes finally moved up and locked onto his. They were gentle but deathly serious.   
  
“No, John.” Her gaze flickered down and back again. “You’re like a work of art.”

 

He stared down at her, searching her expression. She had to be joking. Had to be. But the more he looked, the more he realized she wasn’t.   
  
It was then that Hancock really knew he loved her. He wasn’t going to say it. Not now, not yet. But he knew, right then and there, that he loved Rose.   
  
She bent forward and pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his heart, and pulled back to look up at him with a smile. “I mean that.”   
  
He cupped her cheek in his hand. “I know.”   
  
She smiled as she moved to unlatch the Pip-Boy from her arm, and she set it down a bit more gently than she’d tossed his shirt. He slid the overall straps off of her shoulders and tugged them down to her waist. His hands rested on her hips before sliding up under her tank top. He traced her stomach with his fingertips, cherishing the soft feel of her skin and the gentle ripples of stretch marks.   
  
Rose slapped a hand on top of his and bit back a smile. “Hey, c’mon. That tickles.”   
  
Hancock grinned. “Yeah?”   
  
“Stop,” she giggled as he continued, and she tried to scoot back on the counter, but Hancock looped his arms around her and pulled her close.   
  
“Sorry. Couldn’t help it.”   
  
She took his face in her hands to give him another kiss. “I’ll forgive you when you get this shirt off of me.”   
  
His fingers slid down her sides, hooking under the tank top to pull it up over her head. Hancock could barely stop himself from going right for her bra after he threw the shirt aside. It was unhooked and in the growing pile of clothes shortly after the tank top.   
  
Hancock took a small step back from her and sucked in a sharp breath as he bit his lip. “Goddamn.”

 

Rose laughed and tugged him forward by the waistband of his pants. He pressed a kiss to her jaw, trailing slowly down her neck. He took his time and couldn’t help but marvel again at how soft she was, all but untouched by the rough wasteland. He let his fingertips brush over any exposed skin they could reach, moving from her shoulders to trail gently down her arms and over the colorful patterns of ink that covered them.

 

“Want you to tell me about all these one day,” he murmured against the dark bloom of roses that folded over to sit just above her collarbone from her upper back. It struck him as a little ironic when she’d called him a work of art, when she looked like this.

 

Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he traced a line with his tongue over the curls of ink that decorated her chest and down to the valley between her breasts. His hands were cautious at first; his fingers swept down the gentle swell of her chest, brushing lightly over her nipples. She let out a sort of frustrated moan and pushed her chest upwards into his hands. Hancock chuckled and pulled away just enough to look up at her.

 

“Impatient, huh?”

 

Rose just grumbled and tried to pull him back to her.

 

His grin grew wider. “Can I just enjoy myself here?”

 

“You’re _teasing_.”

 

“Am not,” he said, bending back down to press a light kiss to one of her nipples. “I’m appreciating.”

 

“Appreciate fas— _ah,”_ she threw her head back as he took one of her breasts in his mouth. His hand caressed and kneaded the soft flesh of the other as he traced circles with his tongue and nibbled just hard enough to leave marks. Her hands snaked down between them and undid the flag wrapped around his waist. He smiled against her skin when she took him in her hand, dragging up and down his hard length with long, slow strokes.

 

Hancock realized very quickly how wound up he was when it came to Rose. As much as he wanted her to, he knew that if she kept going this would end far sooner than he wanted it to. So he dropped down to his knees and pulled her overalls the rest of the way down with him. He looped his arms under her legs, tugging her forward on the counter. He planted kisses along the inside of her thighs, moving higher and higher until he left a lingering kiss over her panties. She started to squirm as he moved the fabric aside but Hancock--clearly stronger than he looked--held her legs in place. Her hands found his arms and her nails dug into his skin as he dragged his tongue up her slit without warning.

 

When she was in Goodneighbor, before she started traveling with him, she’d heard word of the Mayor’s talents in bed. There didn’t seem to be many who hadn’t had experience with him, and Rose was being shown right now why that was.

 

As his tongue swept up and circled her clit, Rose let out a strangled moan and swept her hand over his head, knocking the hat to the ground. She half-figured he’d come up for air and to retrieve that hat, but his pace seemed to only increase from there. He sucked on her clit almost hard enough to dance along the thin line between pain and pleasure, but alternated with long strokes of his tongue. When she moaned his name, fire shot down his spine.

 

 _Fuck_ , he wanted to hear her say his name like that every day for the rest of his life.

 

She let out an even prettier sound when, without warning, he slipped two fingers inside of her, curling them upwards and moving them in and out at an almost torturous pace. She felt him smile as her thighs clenched together on his head. She was amazed he hadn’t come up for a breath, but wasn’t going to complain. It didn’t take too much longer before her back arched and  her nails dug into the ruined flesh of his shoulders. One more long groan spilled from her swollen lips as she came.

 

When her legs relaxed, Hancock finally pulled away, trailing gentle kisses on the insides of her still-quivering thighs. He looked up at her, the slight gleem of sweat shining on her skin as her chest rose and fell with heavy, gradually-slowing breaths. He bit his lip as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. He wasn’t exaggerating when he told her she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and he was being reminded of that right now. _God,_ he needed her now.

 

As he stood, she started to slide forward on the counter, eager to return the favor, but he caught her hip with his hand and held her back.

 

“What? Let me--”

 

Hancock shook his head, his fingers curling into the soft skin of her waist. “Need you, Rose. Now.”

 

Liquid heat pooled in her belly, but she shivered at his voice. “And I’m the impatient one, huh?”

 

He grinned and hooked his fingers under the waistband of his pants, sliding them down to join her overalls on the floor. He tilted her chin up, bringing her back into a kiss as he took himself in his hand and ran the tip of his cock through her slick folds. They both gasped as he pushed himself inside of her. He just sat there for a beat, his chest pressed against hers, but he stayed still for a moment too long, prompting Rose to clench around him in away that coaxed a long groan from his throat. She wrapped her legs around his hips and hooked her ankles together behind his back as he started at a slow, measured pace. She buried her face in the crook of his neck as she peppered fervent kisses along his throat and collar between quick, hot breaths.

 

It took all of Hancock’s self-control to keep an even pace. The uncharacteristically soft, desperate noises she made, the feel of her heated skin pressed against his, all of it was shredding his resolve to bits. He was a ghoul known for his stamina, but something about this--about _Rose_ \--had him barreling towards a climax that usually took a good while to reach.

 

She threw her head back with a surprised moan as the snaps of his hips quickened, so his hand snaked up the back of her neck and into her hair. He took a handful of her curls in his fist to hold her head in place and caught her smiling.

 

He moved so their faces were inches from each other. “What? You like that?”

 

She bit her lip and nodded as best she could. He tugged her head back again so they could lock eyes. Rose quickly shut her own after seeing the look in his. They were full of lust, an unfamiliar dark fire that made her shiver, but also full of something that surprised her: love. He was looking at her with this strange, unbridled adoration that made her heart swell. She was half-afraid that if she opened her eyes again, she might just cry.

 

It didn’t take too long for Hancock’s hand to fall away from her hair. His palms were now splayed on the counter on either side of her and he pressed her farther back as thrusts become jerky and uneven.  She moved to kiss a trail up the line of his jaw.

 

“Ah, fuck.” One of his hands balled into a fist and he let out a strangled cry. “ _Fuck._ I’m—“

 

Rose tightened her legs around him and brought him back into a kiss as he came. They stayed like that for a moment, pressed together as they let their breathing even out. Hancock smoothed his hands up and down the sides of her thighs. He gave her a mildly embarrassed smile.

 

“Sorry. I usually don’t--” He looked down and chucked. “Well. I usually last longer than that.”

 

She leaned back on her hands and laughed. “That’s okay. Prove that to me next time.”

 

“I love all this talk about next time.”

 

She cocked her head to the side, the smile not falling from her face. She brought her hand up to Hancock’s face, letting her knuckles brush gently down the side of his jaw. He leaned in to give her another kiss, but Rose’s face changed without warning, her brow furrowing and eyes growing wide and alert. She held a finger to her lips before Hancock could speak and pulled him close again.

 

Her voice was barely audible. “Something just moved in that trailer behind the fence.”

 

She carefully slid off of the counter and started to pull her clothes back on, taking her time so if someone was watching, it wouldn’t look like they’d caught on. Hancock begrudgingly followed suit.

 

Hancock yanked up his pants as he ruefully watched her tug the tank top back over her head. A mischievous smile crossed her when she caught him staring. She bit her lip and dragged her overalls back up painfully slowly, wriggling back into them in a way that made Hancock want to forget whoever was outside and just go for round two. But Rose already had her serrated-edged knife in hand, so he stayed a step behind her.

 

Before he could react or suggest otherwise, Rose bolted out the doorway and through a hole in the fence. She bounded up the ramp into the trailer and the sounds of a scuffle ensued. When Hancock hurried to follow her, he found a man pinned under Rose near the entrance of the trailer, her knife pressed to his throat. He moved to get a better look at the man and was surprised to see a vaguely familiar face.

 

“Who the fu—“ Rose froze, drawing back some. “Wait a minute. You’re the guy from Christmas. Craig?”

 

The man, who’d strangely enough maintained a smile the entire time Rose glared down at him, gave her wide grin tinged with embarrassment. “Uh, yeah. Name’s Deacon, actually.”

 

Her face fell back into a deeper snarl. She put more pressure onto the knife and a spot of blood bubbled up on Deacon’s throat. He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing beneath the blade.

 

“Why are you following us?”

 

“I’d love to tell you, but could you let me up first? You don’t have me at my best angle.”

 

“I don’t think so.” Rose growled through gritted teeth. “I’m not too partial to playing nice with stalkers or peeping toms.”

 

Deacon shrugged as best as he can manage. “I didn’t peep, kid. Besides, how was I supposed to know you guys were gonna tear each other’s clothes off after clearing out a molerat nest?”

 

“Doesn’t explain you following us,” Hancock said, adjusting his shotgun just enough so it was aimed at Deacon’s head.

 

His expression was all but unreadable behind the sunglasses—the same pair Rose thought was odd for him to be wearing inside back at Christmas. After a moment, he let out a resigned sigh.

 

“You’re a person of interest for a group I work with. I had to gather intel.”

 

Rose shook her head. “Gonna need more than that, Deacon.”

 

“Look, I--”

 

“The Railroad?” Hancock stepped back a little, brow furrowed. “Are you with the Railroad?”

 

Deacon’s mouth fell open in surprise, but he quickly snapped it shut again. “Yes sir, Mr. Mayor. But I’d appreciate it if you don’t mention I told you that if you end up meeting the rest of our ragtag gang.”

 

“What?” Rose relieved some of the pressure on Deacon’s throat. “What’s that?”

 

Hancock reached down to grip her bicep and pull her up of off Deacon, and she complied. He stood and rubbed his throat, giving Rose a wary glance.

 

“The Railroad is an organization that helps synths escape the Institute and live the free lives they deserve.”

 

Rose slid her knife back into her belt. “Okay, but why were you following us?”

 

“You’ve made a name for yourself in the Commonwealth,” he said with a slight shrug. He stuck his hands in his pockets and jumped down from the ramp. “Helping the Minutemen and Nick Valentine,  killing Kellogg, all that good shit. The Railroad needs people like you. So I was doing a little reconnaissance work that uh, hasn’t ended the way I planned.”

 

She folded her arms and looked down at her feet before turning back to Deacon. “I’m flattered, but the Minutemen are all I can handle. I got caught up with them, so I help. But I only run around the wasteland like I do for my son.”

 

“Right, exactly. That’s why I’m here. We can help each other out. Your problem is the Institute, and so is ours. “

 

“Well--”

 

“And we might be able to help you get to through the Glowing Sea. Manpower and materials and all that good shit. We need to know about whatever is there as much as you do.”

 

That got Rose’s attention. She eyed Deacon just until he started to squirm under the scrutiny. Hancock offered up nothing more than a shrug when she glanced his way.

 

“Okay.” She pressed her fingers to her temple and let out a resigned sigh. “Walk with us back to Abernathy. You can explain everything on the way.”

 

“But--”

 

Rose shot him a look as she and Hancock moved to retrieve the rest of their weapons from the drive-in. “Isn’t that what you would’ve done anyway, stalker?”

 

“Got me there.” He gave her an easy grin. “Lead the way,”


End file.
